skill:

The guilt over the time he had not been here for her still licked at him in his late night thoughts. Things would have come out differently, regardless of where things were now. Fox didn't know if he would have been man enough to resist Fable during her heat if he had been there constantly. If not for the subject of the loss of her first litter, and the fact that Sycamore had been injured, the evening might have played out far differently than it had. But if someone looked at them, had that not been a night where their union was truly forged? In asking about Croí and Rauiri he had reached out to provide her something that her husband had not. Archon had not helped to provide the emotional support through the loss of their first litter, and even though Fox hadn't known that fully at the time it still riled him now. For someone who had acted like some sort of superior knowledge was given to him over reality, Archon had truly never understood what all Fable had tried to hold herself together through.

It was the question whose answer had never changed, not even once. No matter the context, no matter the place, when he was with her, he was happy to be there. Even when it hurt - because Fox was alive and he had been there to see her love focused on someone else - being around her was better than being without her at all. Fox could save all his grumbling for when he was alone in his den. But when they were alone just talking or working on the garden, Archon might not have even existed unless he directly came up in conversation. Maybe he could pretend he was just practicing his acting, trying to spin up his own worlds and stories like Lotte might have. The embrace they fell into was familiar - it felt so good. So real. They'd nuzzled into each other before, they'd hugged, and they'd embraced when reunited - but that was with an element of restraint to each touch. Fox had always been hyperaware, after all. He wasn't stupid, but he had refused to make things more complicated for Fable after everything she'd been through.

The fire was all but forgotten by him; they could have been on the moon for all that he knew, and his heart had not stopped that hummingbird-fast beating. It was like feeling alive for the first time - it was like he had only now taken a deep breath when all he'd gotten before was shallow gasps. It was intoxicating, exhilarating, and was so many things all at the same time that it was hard for Fox to process properly. Her words settled around him, and this time it was not his shoulders that bore the edict. Her words were like a crown placed upon his head, glittering and beautiful and blinding. He shook his head when she said she'd been blind - because Fox didn't see it that way. You followed your feelings; that isn't foolish. He was gentle in the statement because he didn't think she needed to berate herself for the sake of 'right' or 'wrong.' There was never a day when you and I did not give honestly to each other, no matter what else was happening in the world. He never doubted Fable, and he'd never doubted himself either. It was easy to feel confident in a bond like theirs; they did not demand of each other, they had always been safe to each other that way.

She was right in her statement. They'd never been just anything. Fox grinned at her before he leaned close to press his forehead to hers. I want this life with you. With our girls. With our family. Oh, how much Fable had given him without needing to directly gift him with words. You've given me everything in this world that I love. Fox said with a soft laugh. She was so smart, so clever, but she had so many different things she needed to focus on. I owe you so much. You and your family. Her siblings hadn't blinked an eye at him being there, beyond Shiloh, her parents had taught him how to work a farm with his hands rather than paws. They'd taught him stories of the world they lived in, and they taught him the language that was theirs and brought him into the fold. He and the girls had learned so much after all in the time that they had been human. It made him feel closer to his own family's origins with the shifters in a sense too. He had experienced what so few could say - that he had lived two lives, in two worlds, and that they were so vastly different from one another.

Fox couldn't help pulling back with laughter when she pointed out that despite knowing she could see the soulmate's bond pulsing visibly, he had never asked about his. Fox didn't need to. He had never had need of asking her, after all. The quirk of his lips before she was hit with the very smolder she'd been thinking of was as much warning as Foxglove offered her. Oh Miss Fae-ble, why would I need to ask when I already knew the answer? Fox had never really questioned it, after all. They had spent so long skirting the pull they had to one another. They enabled it so long as they were careful - and even though more than a year had passed since she and Archon had separated, he had never needed to push things along. They had their own pace, and somehow the comfort of being together in whatever capacity had been enough for him. He'd convinced himself, after all, that was all he needed to live. Just to be close. I always knew it was you. Fox had just chosen to never tell her. He'd never wanted to hurt her fragile heart after the way he'd found it when he had returned to her. Archon had done so much damage, but so had Fate itself. In the loss of her children, the loss of friends and family, of the Golden Glade itself, she had already endured so much.

Only because he could without worry, he pressed a kiss to her cheek before he curled himself around her closer. His arm curled over hers, paw to paw, before he gave her a little tug to bid her closer. You never said anything to me before.... He pointed out, curious about what made her stay quiet. I thought we told each other all the good gossip. Foxglove teased her gently. He had his suspicions why she hadn't considered anything more between them. The girls, for one large and loud reason, and the complication between the worlds that had shifted. How could he center himself when there was so much more at stake? Say it again for me.