12/21/2024 at exactly midnight (beginning of the new day, midnight) if others want to join in later, pls allow Valeska to post first (and dm me before you join this thread, I have ideas and plans!)

It was their seventh birthday; though they had become, magically, a year younger, when they’d been transported to Vivarium - Harper still swore that sometimes, though not often, she could still feel it in her bones.

During one of her escapades up north, Harper had ventured into a cave and found the most beautiful collection of lavender opals of all sizes that had reminded her of Amaranth’s eyes - and she knew her sister had to have it. So she’d packed it with her things, which was wrapped tightly, protectively, and carefully in a melanistic caribou pelt.

And when she returned home, to Elysium, she went straight to work… in hiding the gift and other things, such as her garden and tending to whoever needed to be tended to. She had to look busy, so that her sister didn’t catch on, of course. Then, when night fell, before the night of, she took to their caches, finding what antlers she could, along with some roses, and vines, and went to work.

Setting up the pelt, and the antlers, and the opals in a fine display, in the middle of their courtyard, for all of the pack to witness - and then Harper did something that she did not often do.

She sang.

Valeska would be inclined to agree.

If one were to argue numbers and measure genetic breakdown, they were, biologically speaking, six years old here. This was only as a result of the continent's strange and unusual magical properties rendering some wolves' ages less (or more) than they truly were upon arrival - what dictated this, no one could know, but it had certainly affected Valeska and her sister.

Realistically and by the span of time they had been alive, they were seven.

Valeska knew they were seven.

But six, she decided, felt better, and so six they were in this place. After all, she hadn't quite felt the grim onset of arthritis just yet.

And not one* of her offspring had deigned to give her grandchildren yet.

Whereas Harper remained quietly busy, hustling to and fro amid the Respite beneath the cover of darkness (to which she was quite suited), her sibling lay flat upon her back with a thin line of saliva dangling out from the corner of her lip. Periodically a paw would twitch - likely mid-chase in her dream - and she grunted with the effort, chest heaving. Almost - almost - she nipped at its heels -

A gentle melody roused Valeska from her sleep. Smacking her lips, she rolled to her side, puzzling over the sound. Was that Harper? At this hour?

Shuffling out from the den, she wobbled drowsily toward the center of their home as snow crunched lightly beneath her feathered paws.

She blinked, struggling to adjust her eyes.

What - what is all of this? she said, incredulous. It is beautiful, but - but why?

---

*To knowledge.

A rustle from the bushes behind Valeska is the only warning she gets before Dimitri bursts out, joining Harper's song. It's the perfect ambush, and Dimitri has to admit, he's tired of being mad at Harper. Even if what she did disturbed him, it's been a year. And he can put aside some of his hurt to celebrate this day.

The song hits a note and Dimitri circles for a moment, sounding right ridiculous and not caring. The worse he sings, the better this is. Then he drops his muzzle and stands off to the side of the spread.

He'll let Harper do the explaining, but he's definitely here to have a good time.