3/4/2026, 3:41 PM
![[Image: Viv_FablePost.gif]](https://sig.grumpybumpers.com/host/Viv_FablePost.gif)
SKILL : Howlentines ( 1 / 5 )
The previous days had been a flurry of activity without much time to breathe. Getting settled back into the Kingdom's embrace was tiring, but it was the sort of work that fed Fable's soul. She felt like she was a part of something bigger than herself, connecting her to other souls in this oftentimes brutal plane.
It was just like being in the coven her family was in. The Hand was as much a community as it was anything else. Whether you were there for one moment or a hundred years, it was your family.
Despite feeling like a puzzle piece placed where it belonged, she couldn't fend off a sense of concern for what had apparently assailed the land in her absence. The lingering darkness, no matter the time of day, would have been off-putting to the sun-loving dreamer in any capacity, but knowing it was one more symptom of whatever illness plagued Mythris had her wondering if they had jumped out of the pan and directly into the hearthfire.
They had avoided the rigors of war, but at what cost?
Fable was jostled from her thoughts by Fox's brush against her shoulder. As the gesture so often did, a series of tingles hummed down her shoulder and seemingly straight to her chest. Had he detected the direction of her thoughts? She cast him a sidelong smile she hoped was more convincing than she felt it likely was.
She nodded when he indicated they had missed a great deal. A pinprick of guilt clutched at her - would so much time have passed if she hadn't tampered with Talamh's ebb and flow? It was impossible to know, but even knowing that, she shouldered the blame. She couldn't exactly voice that to Fox, however, as she would then have to explain why she did it, and in spite of her assurance to herself the day they returned that she would talk to him... it hadn't happened.
Something held her back. There were a few times when they were alone over the past few days where there was a moment she thought would be right, but the words would never come. Instead, she'd fill the space with something meaningless like an observation about their surroundings or that it was snowing again. As if he didn't have eyes of his own to see it, obviously.
From Epona's deadpan stares she caught every so often, she had a feeling her mother might stage an intervention if she didn't say or do something soon.
In the end, it was fear that kept her at bay. Fear that she was wrong; fear that she had misunderstood; fear that she had somehow manipulated him; fear that the soulmate bond from the world before influenced him and none of it was genuine. She had tried to see things through the same lens her mother did as an outsider observing them, but Fable had been ever so wrong the last time she walked this path with someone.
And look how that had turned out. She lost contact with two of her daughters and she had to forge out a little corner of the world for her fractured family to exist within. Although there were tough moments in "single parenting", she hadn't exactly been alone. Fox had always been there, alongside the other members of the Kingdom. She was grateful to have had them all, to still have some of them, as it would have been an even bleaker time in her life if she hadn't.
She hadn't realized she coasted closer to Fox reflexively until her side pressed his as they moved through the Howling River's terrain and his warmth seeped into her. It was welcome, and though she thought she probably should have reestablished distance while her thoughts were in such disarray, she couldn't find enough reason in herself to do so.
Whatever uneasiness might have been taking root in her was banished as he talked of Cailean. A smile took over her lips, more authentic this time, and she recalled watching him win the colt's favor over. Fox really had adjusted well to her natal world - it made her a little sad they couldn't have stayed longer, but there was too much at risk and with Conor forging out a way for them to go somewhere presumably safer, the choice was an obvious one.
Fable would always choose time with Fox - with her family - over the venue. Be it in the form of humans, wolves, or sea amoebas, she would always reach for time.
Her younger sister had an excellent connection with animals; Fable suspected she had picked up their mother's druidic magic, but it hadn't yet shown itself beyond the latent, passive edges.
Like fae wine.
Fable should have been concerned about that, but if the thought tried to manifest, it was wholly unsuccessful and the thought to worry about it never crossed her mind.
She caught the edge of pale light flickering near the edges of some trees and she angled her body toward it.
Curiosity had been the major driving factor of seeking the fire out, but as Matriarch of the Kingdom, it was also her duty to make sure she was vigilant of all develops in and around its lands. A strange-colored fire was a cause for inspection and it just so happened to line up well with the sense of whimsy she didn't often get to entertain these days.
It was just like being in the coven her family was in. The Hand was as much a community as it was anything else. Whether you were there for one moment or a hundred years, it was your family.
Despite feeling like a puzzle piece placed where it belonged, she couldn't fend off a sense of concern for what had apparently assailed the land in her absence. The lingering darkness, no matter the time of day, would have been off-putting to the sun-loving dreamer in any capacity, but knowing it was one more symptom of whatever illness plagued Mythris had her wondering if they had jumped out of the pan and directly into the hearthfire.
They had avoided the rigors of war, but at what cost?
Fable was jostled from her thoughts by Fox's brush against her shoulder. As the gesture so often did, a series of tingles hummed down her shoulder and seemingly straight to her chest. Had he detected the direction of her thoughts? She cast him a sidelong smile she hoped was more convincing than she felt it likely was.
As well as can be expected,she returned. The absence of Naussi and Illi troubled her amidst everything else, but she couldn't help but wonder if it was a small blessing that they hadn't yet arrived - perhaps this darkness would move on before they would, or they would know more about what was transpiring and could better protect them. Protect them all. Fable wished more than ever she had Shiloh's analytical mind, but she had never really needed it.
She nodded when he indicated they had missed a great deal. A pinprick of guilt clutched at her - would so much time have passed if she hadn't tampered with Talamh's ebb and flow? It was impossible to know, but even knowing that, she shouldered the blame. She couldn't exactly voice that to Fox, however, as she would then have to explain why she did it, and in spite of her assurance to herself the day they returned that she would talk to him... it hadn't happened.
Something held her back. There were a few times when they were alone over the past few days where there was a moment she thought would be right, but the words would never come. Instead, she'd fill the space with something meaningless like an observation about their surroundings or that it was snowing again. As if he didn't have eyes of his own to see it, obviously.
From Epona's deadpan stares she caught every so often, she had a feeling her mother might stage an intervention if she didn't say or do something soon.
In the end, it was fear that kept her at bay. Fear that she was wrong; fear that she had misunderstood; fear that she had somehow manipulated him; fear that the soulmate bond from the world before influenced him and none of it was genuine. She had tried to see things through the same lens her mother did as an outsider observing them, but Fable had been ever so wrong the last time she walked this path with someone.
And look how that had turned out. She lost contact with two of her daughters and she had to forge out a little corner of the world for her fractured family to exist within. Although there were tough moments in "single parenting", she hadn't exactly been alone. Fox had always been there, alongside the other members of the Kingdom. She was grateful to have had them all, to still have some of them, as it would have been an even bleaker time in her life if she hadn't.
She hadn't realized she coasted closer to Fox reflexively until her side pressed his as they moved through the Howling River's terrain and his warmth seeped into her. It was welcome, and though she thought she probably should have reestablished distance while her thoughts were in such disarray, she couldn't find enough reason in herself to do so.
We did miss a lot - but at least th' water is clear now,Fable agreed.
M'mathair is eager t'get settled into th' Sanctuary again. When all th' lasses have returned, we can hold their Rite of Fates. Aisling said she didn't want t'take her own until they all can together - I think she's really missin' her sisters.
Whatever uneasiness might have been taking root in her was banished as he talked of Cailean. A smile took over her lips, more authentic this time, and she recalled watching him win the colt's favor over. Fox really had adjusted well to her natal world - it made her a little sad they couldn't have stayed longer, but there was too much at risk and with Conor forging out a way for them to go somewhere presumably safer, the choice was an obvious one.
Fable would always choose time with Fox - with her family - over the venue. Be it in the form of humans, wolves, or sea amoebas, she would always reach for time.
I think Cailean will be missin' ye, too - but especially all th' treats ye snuck him,Fable teased.
Niamh couldn't believe ye won him over.
Her younger sister had an excellent connection with animals; Fable suspected she had picked up their mother's druidic magic, but it hadn't yet shown itself beyond the latent, passive edges.
I worry about them, too; not knowing what is happenin' t'them makes it harder,Fable admitted, but her brow creased when she realized the worry was beginning to fade. The air had grown sweeter and, with this development, her thoughts were getting foggier - as if something pressed itself into the space and forced them out.
Like fae wine.
Fable should have been concerned about that, but if the thought tried to manifest, it was wholly unsuccessful and the thought to worry about it never crossed her mind.
She caught the edge of pale light flickering near the edges of some trees and she angled her body toward it.
D'ye think that's th' fires they told us about?Fable asked, ears cupped forward.
Curiosity had been the major driving factor of seeking the fire out, but as Matriarch of the Kingdom, it was also her duty to make sure she was vigilant of all develops in and around its lands. A strange-colored fire was a cause for inspection and it just so happened to line up well with the sense of whimsy she didn't often get to entertain these days.
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