My soul? So cynical,

Celnes was one who would attempt to leave the young as much as she could, and was thankful a few would watch them within her place. Yet she knew she could not leave for long, as they still required milk to be fed rightly so. Though she could not ignore her first litter, now the youngs who she enjoyed much more now that some bastardly ones arrived ; new in favorites and perhaps a slight regret at times not paying attention to them further.. Nontheless, the Queen was blinded by how much her actions have done and did not think they thought of her so lowly.

"@Maral ?" She sought her young nightwalker, the daughter of dark, charcoal browns with the hint of whites upon her. Stained as she was, just like Vermillion — and different, just like Aldritch. She was always silent, prowling and yet promising to never leave — but Celnes saw her withdrawal, and the expressions she occasionally did. The woman missed the young girl who wet herself and cried over storms, a needing for a mother that seemed now to be lacking..

With a warmth did the Queen try and approach so, wanting to lick her head with an affection.

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Maral was alone, as she would normally be found on the rare occasion a relative sought her presence. She rested atop a fallen old log that smelt of decay, its bark dense with damp moss and sprouting with fungi. With her chin propped lazily atop an outstretched forelimb, she maneovered another to bat at a bone white mushroom that irritated her purely because it existed.

She sighed, and considered taking herself off to someplace more private to nap for a time. Before Maral could convince herself that this was a brilliant idea, however, the thought was forced aside when her name was called on the Queen's tongue.

The shadow slid down from her perch, landing with a soft thud on the forest floor, and she lifted her tired mahogany gaze to observe her mother's approach.


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"You have been silent for a long while, but moreso since them." She faced her daughter, sitting down with her weakly form and looking upon the other. Her fur was always different, then all within the litter. The rest carried warm browns, lushed in the genes of her family and yet Maral — held much a clear view of who her origin was, her father within the Nightwalkers land. Tinged in charcoal, she was with that mixture and the very, few stains of white that was. Such a contrast to her fur. Always well-groomed though, soft — and one of the few, who stayed.

"It has been some time since we had talked," how long? Since she took her to a waterfall? To the night of storms or gathering moss? She was still young, but the Queen missed when she was still a babe needing her so. Now a distance, a clear line that was made that she — had made. But now the favorites gone, she was a bit desperate to fill that gap.

"How are you doing?" she smiled gently.

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Maral pricked her ears to the sound of her mother's voice, the question of her tone, then promptly splayed them backward. She hadn't expected the Queen to dive head-first into observations made in recent days: how withdrawn she'd been since the arrival if Elkshire's newest litter. Following a brief sweep of her tongue over a whiskered jowl that betrayed her collected demeanour, the shadow exhaled.

“I'm fine,” she responded simply, though it was a lie. The young Déorwine turned her dark eyes away, off to the side as she considered Célnes' use of the word "them" to describe her newborns. Had she thought so little of she and her own littermates in their infancy?

She wasn't really sure what sort of response her mother might be fishing for.


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She never was sure how to deal with Maral. Most of all her children, wore their hearts upon their sleeve. Either within a kindness, a shyness, or but overall a bluntness like the three, Edith, Calhoun and Rohesia. But she was always in an utter silence, though at a young age that was torn away by her strange fear. As the other mentioned nothing to be the sorts, Celnes smiled lightly recalling such events, "Do you remember when you were younger and how scared you were?"

Perhaps refraining from her peeing, incidents, "Where one day the storms even scared you, and I went off searching for you as you fled."

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Maral did not look her mother's way again, not even as she spoke once more. She did listen, however, and swiftly came to realise that she definitely wanted to remove herself from the Queen's presence.

The shadow furrowed her brow, confused. For what reason did her dam feel the need to reminisce over days when life had been most distressing for the least favourable of her children? Maral had been so little when night terrors had been so traumatising that she'd wet herself in her sleep, when thunder had driven her to seek safety in the undergrowth - she did not remember those times, yet she felt anxiety churn in her belly to hear of them.

“I don't,” she ground out, focus turning to movement on the forest floor. Maral made a long stride forward to investigate, and realised a little toad had found itself far from its pond. The dark youth poked at it with her nose, and watched as it hopped forward. With a brief glance toward Célnes, who was surely not done recalling the trauma of her daughter's infancy, she chuffed a soft invitation to follow before dipping her muzzle and reaching to gather the amphibian carefully between gentle teeth.

She pressed on into the woods toward the nearest water source so she could release the little creature into a more comfortable environment.


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"I had spent hours searching for you, as the forest flooded." She followed her daughter, who continued within a silence and a strange tension within the air. She couldn't tell whether her daughter wanted her here or not ; but if she didn't, why stay within the crown itself? Heavily so, Celnes relied upon her children to stay within a sanity — for any who she did trusted at some point had slowly betrayed her, and she was only left with bits and pieces of her kingdom.

It hurt deeply for a few of her kin to leave without a word.

She watched a bit, as Maral picked up a frog and instead of devouring — placed back into a stream. Despite nicknaming her 'nightwalker,' she did not act like them. Remembering the first time the boogeyman was around, she witnessed him kill a pregnant elk right before her eyes. An ignoring, for something even greater — and even brought her them.

"What do you wish to do, now that you are older?"

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She felt the toad squirm in her mouth, webbed feet sweeping her tongue and it writhed in attempt to free itself. Maral had not expected such protest from the little creature, and she feared suddenly that the unfamiliar pressing within her maw might make her retch.

The Queen padded along behind her, intent on completing whatever memory she wished to share of her earliest weeks as a mother, but Maral failed to listen. There was a guilt in her to ignore her dam, despite simply not caring to hear that Célnes had performed the expected duty of a parent in seeking her frightened babe who was lost in the woods. For a moment, she wondered if Célnes was expecting her to express some sort of gratitude for that.

When at last she came upon a water source, the young Déorwine lowered her head to place her little find into the shallows. The water was murky there, deeper than she thought it would be, and the toad sank - vanished into the pond's clouded abyss.

The Queen asked something of her, and Maral turned her snow-kissed snout to regard her with mahogany eyes. She blinked, not sure how to answer, and took a minute for quiet contemplation before offering: “what would you like for me to do?”


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Always difficult. Rarely to reveal her actions or motives, rare to even reveal an opinion upon any matter and it took Celnes time to claw out any desires of the other. Even upon asking of such a future was left with a question back, that the Queen couldn't help but feel a strain in her smile. She was trying, but perhaps trying far too late then the other needed and such childhood bloom could no longer be controlled.

She hummed lightly, eyes glancing away and into the deeper parts of the woods, "A hunter, a scout.. There is much to do, of what may interest you. Even venturing out to bring more alliances, such as Vermillion has done, is always such a go." Although it was more of an escape for the young princess, but nonetheless would bring some fruit of sorts. Perhaps she would need to take a visit to Greenwood, and meet this supposed @Kore.

Check out what @Remus is doing as well.

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Célnes glanced away, and Maral's dark eyes followed. She looked into the gloom of the forest, searching the darkness for whatever it was her mother looked for, and kept an ear cupped toward her as she spoke. The Queen provided options: hunter, scout, whatever interested her. The shadow felt her frown deepen, for she wasn't sure which path she should follow.

She didn't like that there was a response to be expected from her. She didn't like that Vermillion's name was spoken, for her dispersal was something that burned her still.

Maral exhaled, and moved off before the suggestion of "baby-sitter" for the Queen's offspring could be shared. “I will have to think about it,” she said, ready to be done with this encounter that stressed her more than it should.


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"If you think of something, feel free to share. Although as a royal, you are also welcomed to stay align as always, the Princess." An indication that even if she wanted nothing, Maral could stay overall as a Princess ; but that also meant Celnes would use her to dwelve into politics. Warwick at the moment hail as the true Prince, a heir as so, and to be welcomed more and more to the world of so that she faced. But wouldn't mind, if her daughter too started to enjoy that scene with Warwick.

But ah, the Queen could already see the disgruntled siblings.

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