Skill: [none]

---

The root gave way easily under the force of two grasping jaws. When Adonis took the rope-like plant by her side, she glanced aside at him and could do nothing to stop the smile that overcame her, despite her mouth being filled as it was. Perhaps, this time, her grin came through more in her cheeks and how they pressed into the outer corners of her eyes, or the way she quickly wiggled her way closer, so their cheeks brushed often in their jostling.

She hoped they would never lose these small little flirtations; the desire and delight of being close to one another. Even when murdering a tree root.

If Euphemia had thought she had harbored great love for Adonis before, then it was a pleasure to learn there were depths yet to explore – for when she saw the burly man wield his staff, she found the presence and image of him to be immense. He had absconded with the breath from her lungs.

Adonis was the picture, the true essence, of pure power.

It was not power through force. It was not exerted by fangs or threat. It was power through conviction; the way he held onto himself, his beliefs, and allowed them to drive everything from the way he spoke to the way they passed their first night together, as confessed lovers.

He had burst from the earth when reborn, and now wielded a staff, ready to commit himself fully to his next adventure – a lifetime, with her.

It was the most vivid and fulfilled she had ever seen another soul be, in any lifetime. It felt like a complete honor just to observe him and be witness to his genius, nonetheless to adore him, solely. It made her body feel as warm as a summer day, to think that she brought something lovely to Adonis’s life, that he didn’t already have in droves.

In many ways, Euphemia wondered if she was dreaming, and that she was bound to wake up at any moment. If she did not wake up, then she would celebrate every day, and kiss Adonis’s eyelids in gratitude that she could have a hand in such happiness. It was the best gift she had ever been given.

His instructions were issued to sit, and she siddled up to him pliantly. There was such great pleasure in doing as he bade her, that it rose in her chest and unfurled in her throat and came outwards in an excited gasp. Her forelegs tip-tapped against the earth in earnest, and she lifted her black nose to the nascent starscape above to herald her king’s promulgation –

Speak, my beloved! For I do so love the way you sound!

She would let him lead this ceremony. She would take the staff and hold it aloft so that he could speak, if he so wished! Euphemia would be anything he needed of her, and more. This was his arena, and she was his dedicated support and devotee. Here, and everywhere, and in everything. Whatever he wanted, all his dream, he only needed to ask. They were as good as his.

'Do you see this, mother?' Euphemia wondered, nose still lifted, feeling the tears already welling at the back of her eyes. 'He loves me. He loves the stars,' her eyes closed as she felt the presence of a million twinkling eyes upon her.

'He is just as you were. Bless us, and allow me this bridge to draw you ever closer.'

---

Never before had someone given him such attention. He was not exactly an outcast with his peers, but nor was he ever particularly the center of attention. The status of his mother weighed heavy, and although her situation was technically not supposed to be looked down upon…the younger ones his age at the time were not always so kind.

But Euphemia! She was kind, and this he knew! It wasn’t just that she gazed at him with amazement, she treated him in a way that made his heart soar like an excited hawk who found an updraft. They exchanged their thoughts and feelings, a back and forth that made him feel heard just as he heard her every word.

See how she so eagerly helped him find a staff? He knew not if staves were even used among her people. He already knew from the stories of other packlands, that it was not a common item. And yet, she moved without a second thought, and together they pulled from the earth the shared staff of their love.

Sure…it wasn’t technically the best staff. It was a little…scraggly. Not very straight. In fact, it is going to be rather hard to use for the purpose of weaving their story in the sky. But he would make due! It was a very special staff, even if it was not the ideal staff!

Her own feet tip-tapped against the ground, in a way he often did, and in fact he copied her with his own excitement. She sat, so beautiful at the coming night, and he might have stood there for a moment long simply gazing at her with his molten eyes.

Yes, he was staring, but it was stare with a beaming pride wanting to burst out of his chest.

He shook his head, then nodding as she encouraged him onward.

He steps forward with staff in mouth, looking up to the stars with eyes wide open. He moves his head in a circular motion, pointing the tip towards the sky as he does so. He points then to a star, humming a tone. He moves to another stay, humming a different tone. He does so multiple times, until the constellation is pointed out. It is that of two figures among a flame, and with that a song was formed with the constellation.

He does it again, but quickly this time. His movements were fluid as the wind brushed against his fluffy fur, their little song filling the air between them. He does it a third time, lifting the staff one last time for a long moment before lowering it to the ground. Now, his mouth was free to tell the story. Still looking towards the sky where the constellation was form, he speaks.

”Let this be known as the tale of Love and Flame. The telling of how this one rose from death, and how Euphemia cleansed him…from Duskbreaker into Adonis! How fate drew them together, and bound them in the fire of their joining. Let their song be carried within their hearts…unending! Let the stars forever hold the weave of their love, a thread never to break!” he exclaimed, his voice for once thundering across the mountainside, becoming more engrossed and enveloped with each word to the end in a glorious echo.

He felt it did it right. He felt he did the tradition just as it should be. But the elders were not here to guide him. His mother was not here to watch him, but he swore he could see her smile in the twinkle of a star near the twilight. A smile tugs at his lips. Did he do her proud? He turned then, looking to Euphemia, a hopeful look on his face as he awaited her reaction…did she like it? Was it acceptable? Could she see them both reflected in the stars, just as he could see it so clearly?

Skill: [none]

---

Euphemia watched how his feet tapped the ground, unknowingly replicating her own movements, and the shewolf felt a sense of profound peace.

Finally.

Finally, her heart had been opened and fully received by another. Finally, she was being gazed upon. Now that she was loved, she felt whole. In a lesser form, validated. Finally, she could relax in the arms and know that, even in silence, she was not alone. Finally.

This world was so much less frightening and large when not faced alone.

In fact, now that Euphemia got to borrow Adonis’s rose-tinted glasses, she could see that the world was not frightening at all. It was full of stars and beauty and double-meaning – open-minded adventure, and open-hearted love. He had accepted her from the very moment they met, despite having a terrible story.

Awful father, terrifying death, a petrifying rebirth. Yet he faced everything with a sort of innocence and strength that even Euphemia found she could not easily muster alone. It was inspiring – and what a blessing it was to live in such close orbit of something so inspiring!

Whatever followed next, whatever she worked for in this life, would be because Adonis had shown her it was possible. He paved a road in her soul, where before there was nothing but long-ignored overgrowth.

This was nearly the opposite of what Alaric had taught her about the world, and about love-feelings. With him, the pleasure was always adjacent to pain. Here, was different. Adonis took the pain in his life, and laughed at it! It made her want to embrace him, and communicate through a thousand kisses how it was a wonderful way to be, and that she would never want him to be any different.

Instead, she watched him. Her eyes wide and dazzling, her pupils expanded to take in the sight of him as he stepped forward to inscribe their love upon the stars, with the staff they had procured together. It could not be helped how her lips parted, and her tongue poked out the side –

She felt so entirely in her element, so fully committed to her present and future, that it was a spectacle to sit back and watch it unfold. She felt so blessed to be so aware of it – such an active participant in choosing the path of the stars, and the love they had placed in their hearts.

After all, she would be reciting this night for her own children, one day.

She needed to remember the details, such as the way the crimson of his pelt glowed against the white in the growing dark of twilight. How his voice sounded, rolling in the back of his throat as he hummed a starsong. The sequence of the stars as he pointed them out, one by one.

How an image unfurled before them, the colors filled in by her own mind’s eyes. He traced it again, and again, and again, until it was as if he had etched the image upon her very soul.

It was them. There were so many who had taken part in the communion of love, but this had been a feast, overwhelmed by pink flames. Whatever this was, it felt so much larger than just Euphemia and Adonis. It felt as if this was some cosmic secret, and they were beginning to unravel it. They nibbled at the ends of their rope, tasting the truth of reality: that everything was love.

Everything, on the most cellular level, was about relation and attraction. The expansions and contractions of energy and time itself. They were but one manifestation of godly, unifying, enduring love.

Now she was the one who was sounding like mother.

I can see it! It’s beautiful! She gasped when it was clear his words had been spoken, and she stepped forward, tail set to wagging ferociously. Her nose, her gaze, her ears all craned towards the sky. I have lived beneath these skies my entire life, and have never seen it before. The silver shewolf marveled openly.

Then she stepped back, looking at the one she had named Adonis, and found their distance insufferable. She collided with him, the dome of her head locking into the crook of his jaw like a mechanism. I am a changed woman, at your hand. I can no longer see the world as I did before. She allowed her own heart to pour out through her words.

The passion that belied them was evident, though she could not accurately convey how she felt through words alone. Actions did not suffice either, though the sylph attempted to assuage the need to express herself through a couple of delicately placed licks and several deep huffs of his scent.

Thank you, dearest one. Thank you.

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