do you hear the forest?

"@Warwick.. Do you ever think about.. Uhm, leaving?" Upon one of the many days that the children were left to their own — growing older and now with a more independence.. She sought for her older brother with these wicked thoughts. She sometimes felt she didn't fit in, especially as her mother would give a stare that seemed.. Like it going through her, that she didn't see Vermillion, but another deorwine that had been stained. Yet there was still love that was brought but she couldn't help but shake this feeling of being uncomfortable.

Vermillion stood before him, very uncomfortable voicing these thoughts, but she wasn't sure who else to speak to. Her other female siblings were all relatively.. Wild or too quiet to truly answer, and the other brothers were too judgmental that she knew they would give her a talking, or possibly tattle. The eldest was by far the kindest of the little, and perhaps, he may understand her feelings.

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As the large litter all grew simultaneously, they were far from being in sync with one another. Warwick noticed how a brother had detached himself from playing and spending time with them all, and a sister or two kept to themselves more often than not, which was all to be inevitable as they found themselves within this world, but Warwick was not quite at that ripe wise age to understand this.

So every so often, he'd seek a sibling to interact with, to maintain that unbreakable bond that seemed sometimes out of reach on days they were not communicating fully. But his younger sister was the one to find him today on her lonesome. He smiled as she approached, but that contentment slowly faded with the severity of her question. She was uneasy and hesitant with him, but with a good reason for such an out of the ordinary question.

He took a moment to read her before answering, not grasping where this connection came from with the posed worry.

'I... don't think so. This is our home, isn't it? Why...', his expression drew deeper into one of sadness, '...Did you want to leave?'.

Where was this stemming from?

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"I dunno.." Even when asked, she would make so many excuses. The uncomfort from her mother and yet there was still a kindness, not only from her and even from others. She started to enjoy time with @Remus, even though there was a cold exterior and a.. Distance, between him and the current crown, he gave the children a fairness, and a training to grow stronger. He was the first, to give her any sorts of comfort.

Yet she couldn't remove this dreaded feeling, like.. She didn't belong. It been months now and nothing that could be done to fix so. Instead Vermillion kept looking out, wondering if maybe, just maybe.. The High Elk meant otherwise. That she belonged, elsewhere in this vast world. A guidance, maybe, just as their mother would say that He has mysterious ways.

But still, it was a mystery why she could never shake hold of these feelings.

"I'm just curious whats out there," Vermillion said lightly, not entertaining the whole truth.

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The young sovereign was just as curious, if not more, to encounter paths that were deemed too dark to explore, but he knew in time this would happen. In time, when his role became one of greater importance rather than just the young offspring of their Queen and tinted with a golden untouchable brush, he would certainly seek more duties and if that meant investigating further territories to strengthen the pack, then that came in hand with leaving if only temporarily. 

With the abruptness of her question that came out of the unknown though, Warwick realised there was a depth to this that remained unspoken.

'Vermillion, what's wrong?', citrine eyes coated themselves with a soft sadness; empathy for her lost spirit. He moved closer to her, searching for more secrets that lay within his sisters' pretty strawberries eyes.

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She could feel her eyes burn, a paw lifting to rub them thoroughly as her heart too, wincing in the slightest of pains. Her head tilted downwards, facing away from the eldests sun-blessed eyes ; and royally blessed form. Vermillion sniffled lightly, though it may simply sounded like an ugly sob for she could never harness the blue-blooded deorwine traits, pinnacle of what her mother says is beauty and grace.

"I don't feel.. Like I belong here," the young Princess admitted, even forsaking thinking she was a princess.

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She was crumbling before him, the emotions she held under lock and key were dripping away until finally, they fell free upon the dukes' brotherly ears. He would never aim to let his siblings down when they needed him and so he moved closer to the emotional duchess. 

'That's a terrible thought Vermillion. You know you belong here, we are a family. Have Calhoun or Aldritch said something mean to you?', he trod carefully, still analysing her thought pattern and the need to come out with such a statement, which in his teenage mind, made zero sense. Were his brothers being bullies?

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She shook her head firmly, for none had truly said something. Though Calhoun would say somethings under the guise of 'leading her right,' he never truly harmed her except for being an annoyance. Sometimes she felt bad but it didn't last too long — it was more Vermillion was a sensitive nature. Then there was Aldritch that seemed to take the same air as she held, but harnessed it into an anger then anything other. She preferred to avoid him, in honesty. He seemed more distanced from all of them.

"I don't know," she said, voice trembling as she shook her head, "I don't think I belong here. It doesn't feel right. I don't feel like.. Royalty." Perhaps it would be different if Vermillion was born under a different star, one that didn't hold a silver spoon. But the thoughts of a crown heavily laid to her soul, needing to be noble, and perfect. She used to stutter so much and was corrected, yet now her words were spaced and slow — and without confidence.

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There had been an encounter Warwick had unceremoniously interrupted, one between his sister and the impure doe, that had he eavesdropped just as his stealthy mother had, he would have overheard the state of distress the princess had been in, confessing to the stranger of the same worries she now spoke up of.

'But.. but.. I don't understand?', the young prince was helpless, he wanted to do all he could to perceive all in the best way he could, but as he did not share those same feelings, it would be nigh impossible to comprehend. 'Have you always felt... not royal?', he rose an eyebrow, utterly confused by the words she was disclosing and the disbelief was sprawled across his features.
 

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She nodded, perhaps with a bit too much ferocity, as the waterworks continued on, "Whenever we do.. Our lessons I can't grasp them. The walk, the talk, the correct way to present yourself.. I can't do that." The royal lessons considered ways to properly speak and talk. A tone of confidence needed, with a head held high and a proud, and graceful stance. 'Harness the elk's grace,' so she was told when Vermillion had trouble feeling the confidence to do any of so. She always held her head down, words that stumbled and tumbled over each other with a bit of sadness.

She was never praised for anything, and felt she couldn't do it, even when there was attempts. Her walk was more of a mouse then anything, light on her feet and quick, then of a slow and steady stance. She had trouble looking at others in the eye ; which included her own mother. 

"I.. can't be royalty."

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More tears came and Warwick let out a distressed whine nearing into a howl. It pained him to see his sister so, and he quickly licked away like an eager puppy at her tears on a damp cheek, hoping his playfulness would somehow cheer her up.

'None of us are perfect at it, I suck at some things too. We all do, but I guess we don't like to admit our failures to not let Mother down', he was attempting to cheer her up, to let her realise that there was no such thing as a perfect royal, she need not look far for their queen was a reflection and reminder of this with her history, her present and her future doings. 

His tail wagged with an idea that pleased him, but perhaps did not his sister.

'What if I helped you?'.

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"Mother looks at you!" She squeezed her eyes closed and squeeked lightly at Warwick, though her words loud and with a distress. She didn't want to take it out on Warwick, and yet was growing fustrated he wouldn't be able to understand. He was the favorite, which was clear by the lullabies her mother sung and the desires she held upon him. The adoration, that Vermillion couldn't see within the Queen's eye when she looked at the rest of them.

Even the look she gave to Calhoun was something that.. Wasn't motherly, but she didn't know what vocab to explain how it was seen.

"She looks at us differently.. Like.. Like.." for all her time, Vermillion didn't exactly know how to say how her mother treated them. She gave affection, in due diligence, but any could see the obvious favoritism, "like we are extra baggage." They were just part of an extra in a litter she was expecting, but not in the amount she was given.

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Unfortunately this was something that would perpetually go unnoticed by him. The adoration their queen bestowed on him was one he assumed was equally distributed between him and the other young royals. So he was taken aback by this revelation. 

It was all questionable, had he been astute in the wondrous world of women's hormonal seasonal imbalance, her outburst could have then at least been justified and he could humour her, but alas, he was not yet savvy to these natural habits. He kept quiet for a few moments, allowing him time to think about what she was saying but also giving her some space to calm herself. 

'Vermillion I simply do not think that's true', he nursed a quieter voice, neutral to his current emotions, 'Have you spoken to Mother about this or anyone else?', he looked at her questionably, before he frowned slightly at a more ominous thought slipping through his mind, 'what do you want to do then? Leave us? Where would you go?'. His attempts with playful antics were not successful and he burrowed down to a more serious note, taking her words a lot more seriously than initially.

The poor duke lacked a reasonable or responsible mind and was fully out of his depth when it came to advice and thought perhaps Remus would know what to say.

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She knew he wouldn't understand. The only ones that perhaps would maybe get it, or add some sympathy to the situation were Maral and Aldritch, both who were on the less favorable colors. She just kept shaking her head, the more he spoke the more she was starting to grow upset, tiny tears of frustration coming through. She couldn't look at him in the eye either, for within Vermillion's heart she knew he was trying.. But it wasn't good enough to qualm her worries and doubts.

"You don't understand," a hissing under breath as she sucked in air. Voice wavering, and just.. Turned away. Physically moving as she didn't have the heart to face him. An anger that was rare and yet more of a sadness then anything. And she just..

Ran.

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He was taken aback by her upset, she looked tormented. And there were more things still unvoiced and not yet heard by him. The young princes' mind was fried and burnt out from attempts to interpret her reasons for leaving. In his mind, he saw no justification. This was their home.

He frowned at her accusation, mouth opening to answer back, but she had turned as he did so, 'I-'. And she had swiftly moved away from their conversation, an interaction that barely had begun before it was over.

The duke just watched her flee, lifting himself first as he contemplated to catch up with her, but he knew he would be no help. He wouldn't ever understand the alienation that burdened her and others, something his dam did well to blindfold him from.

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