skill: 1/5

He'd not exactly stormed off after the meeting, though his head spun with the potential crisis that would potentially plague them. Foxglove didn't feel confident in the thought of Fable going off alone to seek answers. Even if she was right - because he couldn't deny the Rise had some sort of something to it - it did not mean that it was a good idea for him to just let her go off without anyone else to keep watch. Fable had grown considerably in her last year on four feet. She'd found strength and commanded it all her own, and he respected that. He did. What felt too complex was the fact that he worried about something happening to her with all of the unknowns, and what would it mean if she never came back to them?

How could he look at the kids and see the spaces made of Fable - brows that she'd lovingly kissed before bed, fur that she'd groomed herself, the little glimmer of mischief he saw in their eyes from time to time before they took off to play whatever childhood games they made up. He missed such simplicity in his own life, and he had to stop thinking about everything he lost and how heavy that made him feel. Fable had her family returned when she was in need of them, maybe this would bring some of his family to him.

He doubted it, at his core he did not expect such a thing for himself. Foxglove kicked a rock out of his pathway where he'd slowly curved his way along aine's whisper, expecting to find the Matriarch planning for her departure. He wondered if he'd made her uncomfortable - if he'd done something stupid and went too far for her comfort level. Sure, the world might be ending but surely Fable was merely trying to escape the crushing awkward feeling since he'd kissed her forehead. A totally benign thing, a friendly gesture, certainly nothing more!

Except Foxglove lifted his head and sang the tule kotiin - but this was different. It was not his, it was something vastly different in feeling. It was purely for Fable, to call her, and if she answered now perhaps she'd answer when he called for her again each night until she came home to Avon.

SKILL : - - - ( 1 / 5 )

It had not been an easy decision, nor one she wanted to make.

If Fable had her way, the world would have remained sound and free of rumple - smooth as a calm lake's surface without a single ringlet in sight.

But that was not what was happening.

Ignoring it would have been easy if its margins of influence did not crowd closer to the Meadows with every passing day. She would look upon the northern river and wonder, was this the day its life-giving water would burn whomever sought its breadth? What more would happen as the days droned on, if they cowed with inaction rather than proactivity?

Fable wasn't certain she could stomach the regret that would take root in her very soul if she blithely cast a blind eye to what was so clearly laid before her - especially if she could have done something to prevent it. Her decision to visit the Rise was not even made out of self-importance - it was devised from examining the members of their small group and determining who was easiest to cut loose for a handful of days.

Her mother was still new to her lupine form and, if she left, Lugh was sure to follow. Fable would not place a child at risk or welcome misfortune to her aging mother who did not even know of the Rise's location. Fleta, too, was unaccustomed to Mythris.

Kaphiri and Amrei were needed within the Meadows to bolster the pack in ways Fable was not so good at. Where they could hunt and provide, she was always fumbling and coming up much shorter than the rest. She trusted them implicitly to ensure no one bedded down for the night on an empty stomach and the borders were tended.

And then there was Foxglove.

Of them all, he was the only other who had been there since the start. He was her dearest friend and a constant presence, her confidant amid all that had transpired. During her earlier audience, she had avoided meeting his eye for fear of what she might find there. Would he try to talk her out of her decision or would he insist upon coming along? Neither were options she could allow to take place - there was no one at all who she would trust more than Fox, outside of her own flesh and blood.

If she was going to leave her children for a week's time, she needed to know they were in good hands and she would gladly shed her own protections to afford them as many guardians as she could. Her trip would not even matter if she returned to nothing and no one.

The rest were newer faces she did not know so closely yet, and she could not ask them to risk their health or lives to pursue what might be nothing at all.

It left her.

The realization brought her no pride nor stirring purpose - she was not her brother, who would have taken the mission with great authority. He would never admit it so plainly, but he liked to be the hero and it troubled him when he couldn't be.

She just wanted to be her - mother, friend, healer, sister, daughter, sunshine- and flower-enjoyer. Lately, she had become the matriarch - a title that undercut all the others.

But in being all those things, she was the easiest cleaved to preserve the other members of Avon. It was also her responsibility now to shoulder whatever was needed - even if she did not like it.

Her preparations were well underway when Fox's call rose to the air. It was not the typical one she would expect from him - instead, it was a song of a different tune and that alone tugged her attention from the herbs she organized. This new melody carried a sort of intent about it, deliberate and personal.

Fable lifted her head, ears pressed forward, as she looked in the direction Fox's summons had come from. She wondered, for only a moment, if it had been meant just for her.

She picked a path toward Fox and took a quiet, deep breath when his form came within view. Fable had noticed his quick departure after the meeting, and now she pondered if the two events - then and now, beckoning her - were at all related. All the same, she offered a friendly chuff before she was within range to speak without yelling.

Mister Fox, she greeted him warmly once she could converse at a normal volume. She could not help but think of the dance when she saw him, but she pushed the thoughts away for the moment, her brows dimpled lightly in concern. Is all well?

Surely there would not be more bad news to add to the heap.

skill: 2/5

He didn't wait too long - the tule kotiin had done it's work just fine. He remembered the first night that they'd all gathered together, responding to his call. All of Avon at the time was present. Archon, Fable, Koga, Asa, and Foxglove. He didn't know what had happened to the rest of them, which left just Fable and himself. He let loose a heavy sigh as she came into view, releasing some of the tension as he rolled his shoulders and willed himself to relax. Carrying that in his body would bleed through to his mind, and it all would go downhill after that point.

He swallowed heavily when she was close, the little chuff from her drawing a sound from him too. It was almost a crooning sort of thing, betrayed by his own mind - wasn't he supposed to be in control of himself? Well, that had gone out the window at some point. Maybe when she'd goaded him into a dance. Things had been more simple at the dance, although conflicting and complicated and Fox had stumbled at times. She was always so gentle with him, though, encouraging even when his feet found each other. When she stopped and greeted him he offered her a thin, weak smile.

Was all well? He didn't know. Not technically - he could see that and feel it in the world. It almost felt like something was pulsing, a heartbeat all it's own, and Mythris was going to do as it needed to protect itself. As much as it can be, Miss Fable. He said in return. The world would protect itself, but who would protect her? Is Shiloh going with you? Foxglove asked - hopeful that she wasn't truly going alone. If he isn't - I will be. It was perhaps the most firm thing he'd ever said to her, but he was ready to do what he needed to keep her safe. He owed her that much.

But it would leave them more vulnerable in Avon, without him - but Epona could surely wrangle the kids, the girls were fairly good although full of childish mischief. Gosh - the kids. With Archon gone now, it would probably be even more uncomfortable for the kids if Fable left too. Let me. He said it softly, teeth briefly pressing into his bottom lip nervously. Fable had to be safe - for her girls, for her family, for Avon - for him. What if she didn't come back? What if she was hurt, or she was sick, or if something happened to her, and she had no way to ask for help?

Foxglove shook his coat out, as if he was trying to shake the thoughts from his head that threatened to send him into a panic. He could wrangle his emotions and his worries, tuck them far away for now, and put on a braver face. Still the worry was clear and evident on his face - he still worried.

SKILL : - - - ( 1 / 5 )

He might have fooled anyone else, but he didn't deceive her with the feeble smile he proffered.

Fable's studied him with more scrutiny, ears drawn forth and eyes hawk-like. His next words were no balm, claiming all was only as well as it could be. She supposed that was the case for most anyone as the earth rebuked them, but it remained a source of ruffling that someone dear to her was troubled and she could do little to resolve it. No herb could fix this, no medical treatment would draw away the toxins intended to eradicate. Poor Sparrow 's hide was testimony to that fact.

At best, she could try to alleviate the symptoms while the disease took its toll on the wolves of Mythris - but hopefully the Rise would bear fruit, and give her guidance at the very least. The world so often wanted to be heard... perhaps if it knew she was listening, truly listening, it would acquiesce.

Fox asked if she would be accompanied by her brother, and just as her lips parted to offer a reply, he filled the space with his commitment to go himself if Shiloh wasn't. The crease between her brows deepened, though her expression itself softened. His voice grew quiet as he pled for her to let him go, and she felt her tension slacken beneath the weight of her guilt.

To know she would have to turn down his request was an unusual punishment. It created a tangled mess within her chest, borne of so many emotions she could scarcely tell one from the next. If the roles were reversed, she would certainly do the same - they had been apart twice before, one instance of which had flung him across Mythris and forced him to wander home. Who was to say it would not be she who was sent elsewhere at the fae's deign this time? It was a risk, and she knew it was, but it was one she was willing to confront ten times over if there was even a slim chance it would provide clarity to keep her Kingdom - and her family, Fox included - safe.

Shiloh isn't goin' with me, Fable offered, her tone and word choice careful. He doesn't know where I am goin' or that I even am. I can't pull him from Dawnbreak, he has a life all his own now.

It wouldn't be fair to ask him to come with her - if she so much as mentioned it in his presence, he would be saddling up to go along with her. She did not doubt that the Shakti-Vaes Pillars would allow him to accompany her, but she couldn't bring herself to lower their numbers by one for her own benefit when the world was torn asunder as it was. If something happened whilst he was gone, she couldn't forgive herself - already, he had given so much of his life for others and she would not encroach upon it further unless she absolutely must.

Her time of being a burden could not continue - too much rode upon her slender shoulders.

She knew her next words would not be satisfactory, regardless of how she delivered them, but she considered them for a quiet moment before her tongue worked itself loose.

Ye know I would never bid ye away willfully - but I need ye here, Fable finally offered, her own voice quiet but her gaze emphatic. She begged him to understand, to know she had exhausted every choice to avoid this very scenario. I need someone I can trust t'keep m'girls safe while I'm away - m'mother can't do it all alone. There is no one I trust more than ye.

He had proven himself time and time again. Wherever fate might take him through no choice of his own, he always returned. She never had to wonder after the authenticity of his loyalties - if building his life in Avon was not bond enough, the friendship they shared certainly seemed to be. So, she beseeched him in that moment - a plea for a plea.

skill: 3/5

He knew that she'd see right through him, heart made of glass and soul - he had a good mix of Lotte's nature in him to break up the seriousness of Hemlock, but he had never exactly tried to keep her out had he? She'd always been privy to his thoughts and he'd always been honest with her. Mostly. Some of his innermost thoughts he buried away, but that wasn't something he'd burden her with. So of course he didn't try and hide anything now, and her scrutiny was done with the best of intentions.

It wasn't his goal to add to her troubles. It had never been his goal. Instead, he felt his place was to ease the tensions she felt, to share the burdens she had. The world was all of theirs, and it wasn't up to just Fable to handle solving their crisis. He wished he'd never had to leave. He wished that he didn't know the sting of losing his siblings, his mothers, his friends here in this world - none of it felt fair. Losing her would prove to be even more painful after all he felt she'd provided to him. He frowned when she said that Shiloh wasn't going - and though it was hard, he held his tongue to hear her out. He couldn't disrespect her by speaking over her, no matter how hard it was.

I know you aren't doing this just for us. Foxglove offered quietly. You go for Dawnbreak as much as you go for Avon. And he didn't want her to be the one to go and make this pilgrimage. What else might she run into on her trip? Fox didn't even get a chance to speak on those thoughts when she'd gently declined him. Fox made a sound - the placative whine that he gave was not one begging for her mercy. He worried for her, for the girls, for her mother and siblings. He was the very last on the list, all he had was Avon's. No one outside of Avon would miss him - hell, no one outside of Avon even knew he existed. How did she not see how important she was, and realize how little he mattered? Foxglove stepped closer, swallowing suddenly when she said she wanted him to protect the girls.

I would give my life. Foxglove said, sincerity in every syllable. There was no time for shared quips, no playful glances. Only the honest, earnest words of a mother given to someone for the sake of her children. Her trust settled around his neck, but he did not find it constricting. It was a special thing, after the hardships she had endured, she still found she had the ability to trust at all. And him. Somehow he had earned her trust. Fable - I....you know I would, but you should stay instead. I'm just... He didn't want to deny her this request, he would swear himself to her - but why was it that she didn't see how needed she was? You could stay. I could go. Your family needs you, Fable.

There was no way that he would ever consider them on equal standing. He could be replaced easily, a rogue male was a dime a dozen. She was precious as the stars in the sky, her soul infinite as their beauty was. Even if he was unable to return in this life, he would wait in rest beneath that eternal night sky.

SKILL : - - - ( 1 / 5 )

She gave a small nod at his words - they rang true. Fable did not do this solely for herself, her children, or the members of Avon. Her journey would be one intended to benefit everyone, even the family north of them. Though she shared no blood with them, Fable considered the Shakti-Vaes brood to be akin to family - if they ever came to her with a request or simply company, she would have complied without hesitation. Her life bore an open door for them, welcoming them in no matter the season or weather.

They did not necessarily have to reciprocate, and Fable never asked it of them. She tried to never burden them or ask favors of them - the dreamer had promised Tiberii that much when Avon first relocated. Thus far, she felt she had been successful. The prospect of her trip going favorably meant she might be able to provide them with information, too.

Fox's whine was entirely disarming, keen as a blade and twice as dangerous. A knee-jerk reaction demanded she retcon her decision, but her lips remained sealed, tongue pressed to the backs of her teeth with words she wanted to say.

But she couldn't do that - she could not let him go with her.

He stepped closer and she held his gaze, vulnerability lining their springtide hues. She did not feel the need to stand impervious before him, staunch and perfectly poised. Fox had already seen her fall apart, and he had not grimaced at the broken, ugly pieces.

The next words to leave him cast a sheen of fine tears across her wavering sight - relief and gratitude swimming there freely, but an undertow of raw worry remained. His life was not forfeit, something given so easily as the next heartbeat that was soon forgotten. He mattered, but his vow mattered, too.

It was strange, the division that lived within her inside that moment.

I pray ye d'not ever have cause t' give it, Fable finally pried the words from her throat, voice hushed and strained. I know m'trust is not misplaced.

Fable fell silent as he reasoned, petitioned, that he should take her place and her eyes drifted past him, to the distant form of Aisling coiled beneath one of Aine's weeping trees - her pale coat cast with fallen blossoms.

I have never been very strong, Fable began, not yet meeting Fox's gaze. Even when I was human, I was not - I had height, but never brawn, never th' skills t'do more than build a garden or set a bone. That hasn't changed here, either. Talamh, Mythris - it doesn't matter.

Her brows creased as a stiffness settled in her jaw, her thoughts seeming to fight their way from her physically. For weeks, I wondered if I could have changed what happened t'Gamma. Something I could have done t'prevent it - but I realized I couldn't, Fable's tone was trimmed with a distant sorrow, the sort of sadness that had paled with time and acceptance, but never quite went away. She dragged her sight back to connect with his. Even if I had met whatever posed her harm, I could not have stopped it, an' I don't think I could forgive m'self if I let that happen again. I can't be selfish.

It could be reasoned that none of it was her fault at all, that nature simply happened, but Fable was not so blind to her own faults. She lacked in areas that supported survival - without her circle of family and the ranks of Avon, she would have perished long ago. It was not self-deprecation, but fact.

Fable's ears wilted, pressed back, low. Ye can hunt, patrol, protect far better than I ever could, she went on. M'daughters do not need me here in this moment - they need protection now more than ever.

She matched his earlier step forward with one, two of her own. Fable reached with her muzzle, resting her nose against the darkened star nestled on his crown. For perhaps a moment too long, that was where it lingered.

I can never repay th' debt o' keepin' them safe, she whispered as she backed away, her words first fogging against his fur before she created enough of a gap between them to meet his eyes once more. They are precious t'me beyond all measure. I do not entrust them lightly.

skill: 4/5

Foxglove did not know the wolves of Dawnbreak. It wasn't a lie to say he had been as smitten with Avon as he had ever been. He was laser-focused, his attentions purely surrounding the Goldencourte family. It wasn't out of malice, he didn't intend to snub them. He just had too much to do in Avon. And yet. What mattered to Fable mattered to him, and he would do what he could to ensure that he aided the causes that mattered to her. And this? The whole world rebelling against them? That was a matter of everyone. It was not a burden that any particular one of them could handle alone, he was convinced. None of them were so strong nor so omnipotent as to be able to control the very land upon which they lived. It forced them into choices like this - that considering the risk it would be for Fable to go alone, or to have him away from them again......neither choice was good.

His head swam, as if he was still enjoying the benefits of the berries from only days before, or the feeling and the rush he'd felt when they'd danced. Gods above and below, if only they were still celebrating. Even before she started to explain, the look she gave him was honest, and he was already bracing himself for her rejection. She held his gaze without the overt display of her place above him. What she did was maintain the understanding they had between them. She might not say the words so simply. She might not have had the blunt manner of cutting him off, but Fox knew it was coming. Her trust settled around his neck like a collar - and all he was belonged to her and her family. He found it was not choking so much as reassuring in a sense, that even without his own siblings and parents he had a place that he belonged and was rooted to. Fable... His soft acceptance, even if he thought her misguided in her opinions of him, was offered in the only two syllables it took to say her name. Her eyes drifted elsewhere, an ear flicked in the direction she looked before his curiosity got the better of him.

The little flower was tucked under the sea of strands from the weeping willows, encased in a bubble of nature and it's precious gifts. He tried to picture Fable as she had been and he swung his gaze back to her. He peered at her as if he might see through the mask of her curls and see her on two legs. Talamh - had she said that when they had been taken to her village? It was a question for some other time, right now he needed to focus on what else she was saying. His ears drooped as she mentioned the guilty thoughts that set after her. He was glad to hear that she had realized the truth, but what had he missed about those worries? He hadn't realized the depth of all she had endured in such a brief span of time. Their eyes met again and there was remorse in his gaze. He had been the selfish one to have not seen her struggles too. But somehow she had still progressed onwards. She did not shy away from life. Perhaps that was even in honor of Gamma.

She listed off the things that he did, that he'd always done, as if that somehow mattered. She had adapted to an entire cosmos taken away, only to be dumped in a world that seemed fully intent on taking from them time and time again. He could argue her point - that her daughters needed her most of all, especially now. If he could somehow duplicate himself to go and search out answers and to keep an eye on things. He had done so well to keep his mouth shut while she'd given her side of things, but all thoughts immediately ceased as he realized her nose nestled right at the center of his brow. Somehow he'd leaned down as she moved, matched as they had been when they danced. He let out a shuddered breath, a little tremble to his voice as he answered that whispered tone. You are precious beyond measure. He reminded her. He dared not try and claim her all his own, I won't be able to forgive you if you don't come home to us. He tried to fill the distance between them, tiny as it was, with a brief bit of levity. He couldn't quite bolster enough strength to sound confident or to really back it. For Fable, he'd fake it till he made it. He swallowed thickly, his worry and his fear on his face. You....you should spend the day with the girls, I shouldn't keep you. Their Matriarch should not have felt forced to go, but, he couldn't refute her request or her trust.