Ψ · The sweet nectar of youth

I don't think Elkshire's borders are closed yet, but if they are - timed before they were oops

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 The soldier moved on.

 She had spent a good deal of her time in the northern portions of the territory, roaming and trying to mark the borders best she could with her less-potent scent. Still, it felt their land grew without reason, spreading on even when their numbers would soon need to condense. The queen would birth soon and when that happened, Meissa knew that the borders would tighten and no wolf would pass.

 It was a time of both excitement, rejoicing, and fear, it would seem.

 This would be the queen's first litter in the new world, she expected. There was no king of Elkshire so the pups would be fatherless, instead needing the rest of the pack to step in and care for them while their mother rested and ruled.

 She found that her paws took her into the flatland, the placed called Sleeping Doe's Range. This place was open, giving the woman a strange mixture of emotions. From one part of her, she felt at home here. It was familiar, the rolling tides of gold. Yet... it introduced vulnerabilities. She had not seen a human since waking, but this field felt like a place where they would lie in wait. It caused a nauseating amount of fear within her gut, spoiling the nostalgia.

 She gave a sigh, scraping at the earth with a paw. She had to admit, the flowers here were pretty.

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Archon Mamius had been born to do great things. His name quite literally translated to Great Leader. Either someone knew what they were doing when they named him, or someone had jokes. He had all the markings of a great leader ahead of him, though perhaps he had been lucky. His parents had been of royalty and therefore, their status was his status.

He’d been born into a large litter; his sisters were all larger, and far more aggressive than he was, but tradition was tradition, which meant that Archon was the heir and that was that. It didn’t matter that he was the runt, and smallest of his litter at the time. No one was foolish enough or bold enough to break tradition.

The best part was that Archon didn’t want it. He didn’t want to lead. He didn’t want to be great. He wanted to collect sticks and sleep by the river. He didn’t care about the pack, or hierarchy, or any of that mumbo jumbo.

So when it came time for Archon to go on his hunting lesson, leave it to beaver to get distracted over the perfect looking stick, and therefore, Archon abandoned his hunting party for sticks. Sticks were priority and the only way into his heart. Not that anyone cared about any of that, right this second, anyway.

So there he was, completely obviously to everything else around him as chewed on this stick, and wouldn’t you believe it, and a golden hawk had sighted him and decided that he’d make one hell of a meal. He was, after all, a quarter of the size of his hunting party and the size of a goat. So, of course, he got the treatment of a goat.

His body hit the ground and Archon awoke with a gasp.

That had been one hell of a nightmare.

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 “Ah.”

 That was the word that slipped from Meissa's mouth as she saw a brown blur slam into the earth ahead of her, popped into existence. Well, that was new. It took her a moment to realize what the hell had happened, even as she slunk closer and realized that this brown blur was actually a bundle of fur that was actually most likely... a puppy? Her mind flashed back to the queen and her puppy situation. Was this... somehow a way births occurred here? No, that made no sense. Despite this kid looking like he could have been a relative of the queen's - r at least the royal litter's sire's - there was no way this was actually one of her kids.

 He was far too old.

 She frowned, looked up at the sky where it'd been, and looked down at the kid, frown transforming into confusion and worry. “Are you alright?” she said, salmon eyes taking this kid in. He looked young but not young enough to be still on milk. Old enough to run with the pack but not old enough to quite be leggy and awkward, though he was crumpled so it was possible that wasn't the case.

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That nightmare had been so real, so vivid, so… so scary that Archon had awoken with a gasp. Jolted awake into a new world, one that Archon simply hadn’t noticed was any different than his old one, even if he was six months younger than the body he’d been so violently torn from.

All that the prince had noticed was that, of course, that his beloved stick was missing. He carried that stick everywhere with him, and even slept with the stick at his feet. Had someone stolen it? He frowned, standing suddenly to twirl around, looking for it. “Sick. Where sick?”

And then, would come the vocals of another. He stopped, eyes wide, and turned to her, glancing up at her with large eyes. And then he started backing at her. “Yous! You teeff! You take Bam Bam! Give back! ”

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 Sick?

 She tilted her head, confused. What was he talking about, a sick? A stick? Oh, a stick. She glanced about but was unable to spot one in their immediate vicinity. Unfortunately, it seemed like the boy's precious stick was nowhere to be found - unless he was actually talking about something "sick." Maybe the kid was sick before and wasn't anymore and was confused, but no he continued on to yell at her about something called "Bam Bam."

 Was the stick named Bam Bam?

 She frowned, shaking her head. “I'm sorry, little one, I don't know a Bam Bam,” she looked around the ground near them, trying to see if there really was a "Bam Bam" hiding around somewhere. “I can help you look for Bam Bam if you want? What does it look like?”

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The stick was absolutely named Bam Bam and Bam Bam was the most perfect stick in the whole wide earth. And she had taken Bam Bam. It made sense, hadn’t it? Stick was gone, she was here, she took Bam Bam.

“Sick, Bam Bam. You take! Give. Back! ” Archon howled, howling until wait. He stopped. He looked at her with wide, confused eyes. Little one?

His nose wrinkled up and he shook his head. First, she lie about Bam Bam. Then she treat him like a child. Archon was no child! Just an teen who had gotten away from his hunting party. It had not even occured to him that he was speaking like a toddler might, as all the words came out (to him, anyway) in perfect english. “Wittle one? I ink not! Lie! You seal Bam Bam, now you call wittle? You is bad at joke. ”

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 The woman watched in confusion and mild amusement as the child continued to accuse her of stealing "Bam Bam." She shook her head, indicating . “You can check,” she said, “I don't have Bam Bam, I didn't take it.” She offered a soft smile, lowering her head, “Promise.”

 Her offer to help look for the thing still stood and she turned her eyes from him to peek around the grasses and bushes. There was a chance he'd appeared with it, right? She'd appeared with her rope and ring but they were on her so maybe that was different and something near you wouldn't come with.

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Short sorry! Brain going byebye

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Archon stared at her for a very long time, as if not registering that she had spoken. After some time, he’d give a grunt and glanced around. “Well, if pro-mice.. ” Archon grumbled, frowning at her as he took a few cautious steps towards her with a sniff, and then proceeded to check around the area for his Bam Bam and would, to his knowledge, not find it.

And if she didn’t move, or even if she did, he’d come up next to her, sit down and lean against her. “I dun want find new Bam Bam. Bam Bam wuz special. You know?” Archon said, glancing up at her.

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 She waited while he stared at her, deciding if he trusted her or not, and finally he seemed to calm down. He approached her, sniffing, and she sniffed back, tail slowly wagging behind her. She'd picked it up from Flynn but she couldn't help it, really. She waited as he moved about, checking around.

 Then he sat beside her and leaned against her leg. She smiled and pressed her nose gently to the top of his head before lifting her head so he would not smack her nose with his when he looked up.

 “I understand,” she said with a knowing nod. “What's your name? I'm Meissa. I'm a Royal Guard here in Elkshire.” For however long Celnes allowed her to be. With the kids so young and tiny, they needed to be protected more than anything. She remembered the orders: No wolves to be permitted into the land. With the puppies so little, they couldn't risk it. Yet... This boy couldn't have been more than three months old.

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The boy had settled next to the stranger, not quite sure if she had his Bam Bam well hidden, but for now, he supposed that he would trust her until Bam Bam showed itself. For now, though, she was in the clear.

He’d shift a little, getting comfortable against her leg. “Herro, Mezza.” Archon would say with the wag of his own tail. “Mezza of Eekshyrrr. I’m Archon of um… this forest.” Archon of nowhere was more like it, but this forest seemed better. “Royal Guard sound fancy. Is you fancy, Mezza?”

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 Her eyes were soft on the boy as he introduced himself in his slurred, puppy voice. She smiled when he asked if she was fancy. “I'm not sure, do I look fancy?” Fancier than most, for certain - at least, with her decorations and mutations she felt herself to be. Fancy wasn't always a good thing, as plenty of wolves had pointed out quite rudely, but it didn't really matter, did it?

 She had a roof over her head and a man whose arms to sleep in.

 So what use was being called fancy or beautiful?

 “Well, you're in luck - this forest is owned -” sort of “- by Elkshire!” She grinned, wagging her tails gently. “So if you're of here, then would you like to be of Elkshire, too?” She paused momentarily, “I'd have to ask my queen if it's okay, but I'm sure she agree.” After all, he seemed very polite.

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Archon decided that it was time to check her out. So he stood very dramatically, stomping his paws on the ground like an upset child - though he was not upset in the very least - and decided that he’d give her a good look. 


“Well, let me see.. ” Archon would announce, and if she had not stood by now, he’d come by to nibble and paw at her hips, so that she would stand. “Come on, let me look at you.” He would say, in perfect ‘adult speak’ as if it had been recited, or based on memory. Perhaps both.


And then he would circle her. There were a lot of head nods, a lot of ohs and ahs. And then he got to her tail. He’d lean in to sniff, give it a good nibble, if she’d allow it, if it was in the position to do so, and then he’d continue. 


“You look… ah, um...fancy. ” Not quite the word he’d use,  but he didn’t know the word for pretty or beautiful yet, and calling her a very handsome girl did not seem to… work. “Your queen going be okay with a teenaged king?” Archon barked a laugh, wagged his tail and then nodded. “I kid! I run away from training because I not wanna be the king my momma wanted me to be, and now I here, with fancy, fancy, lady.”

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 She chuckled, standing to allow him to look her over. Her head turned to follow him as he inspected her, looking over her shoulder and teasingly moving her tails out of the way of his jaws as he tried a nibble. “Why, thank you, good sir.” She sat again after he was done looking at her.

 A teenaged king?

 She looked him over thoughtfully. Well, she didn't know too much about the ages of pups but she was pretty certain the boy was no teenager. He was hardly more than a toddler! Still, she'd smile, trying not to think about how the boy would likely never meet his mother again. “You were going to be a king?” she asked gently, tilting her head with true curiosity. “I think she'll be okay with you, she just has to meet you - and ah, I'll need to go give her a heads up first.” A chuckle and a shrug. “Policy.”

 The pups were far too young for the borders to truly be open yet so she would need to go and beg the queen to allow them to bring the youngling in.

 Despite there being wolves in the vicinity, and despite his announcement of being a teenaged king, she doubted he could fend for himself for long all alone.

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He had been a teenager in his last life. Archon had no idea that he’d come back as a babe. Imagine trying to wrap his little head over that when he didn’t even know the word for pretty! “I like your tail. Tails. How do grow second one?” He sat down, looked back at his solo, very boring tail.

He glanced back at her with the twitch of his nose, nodding his head. “It was uh….trad.. Trad..” What was the word for it? He couldn’t remember. “Policy. Yes. That’s it.” He nodded his head, shrugged his shoulders. “ I did not want it so I ran away, now here, without Bam Bam… ” He would frown, glancing up at her.

Would she make for good Bam Bam? She looked fluffy enough for him to chew on.

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 She gave a little laugh. “Unfortunately, I was born with mine like this, so I don't think you can grow another,” She tilted her head. “But who knows! Stranger things have happened!”

 Meissa considered this with a hum, wondering what exactly to say. “Tradition?” she offered, even though he had chosen a different word. She'd never been a royal of any sort so she didn't quite understand the boy's frustrations. Sure... she could have once been a queen, if she had made one different decision. It was funny, how her entire life would have been different if she had joined with him then when he was a mere boy.

 He had made his own pack, taken another as his queen, so why did she still feel a pang of pain when she thought about him? Ah, because he was her first crush. Not love, not really - that title was reserved for the queen she had adored afterwards, the one who she... left behind...

 She stood, shaking out her pelt. “Would you like me to go ask her if you can stay? I won't be long, I promise.” She glanced about, spotting a nearby burrow that looked like it could fit him and another if they squeezed in.

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Archon glanced back to her twin tails with wide, curious, eyes. She had been born like that? And he had been born like this? Life was not fair. He glanced back at his own tail and gave it a little wiggle. It didn’t look nor feel like a second tail was hiding in there, somewhere, but maybe..

“Yes, tra-ditch-on. That same thing as policy, right? ” Archon blinked, shrugging his shoulders. See! See, this is why being the ruler of anything was lame. He had better things to do, like figure out how he could have two tails!

And then she stood. Oh, right. The queen. “Yes, okay. You ask. I will find Bam Bam, I hopes. ”

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 “Your tail is perfectly beautiful, even just as one,” she said as she watched him looking back at his tail, clearly disappointed. Or at least, that's what she thought he was feeling. That's what she would have been feeling at his age, if she were in his position.

 Maybe there was something she liked about being a freak?

 She grinned and gave a shrug, “Policy is the laws and things that leaders can change or add pretty easily, I think. Traditions are things that families and packs do through multiple generations.”

 He agreed to her suggestion and her tails wagged, “Alright, feel free to hide in that little burrow right there if you feel scared at all - I'll be right back!” and, if the boy didn't ask anything else, she'd sprint off in the direction of the queen's den.

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Exit, unless stopped!

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