「 Skill Point ― n/a 」
Cupid
Snow storm, seems to be quietening down
CW incase, these two are wild.

Trygve was still missing and Tyr couldn't help but worry for the boy that resembled himself. It was the fatherly thing to do, to worry. While for the most part he knew trials and at times even pain shaped the soul, knowing his child was missing and away from home worried the god. The others, they had their mother or father, and that meant more than being alone in a foreign land.

After dropping their new friend off with Lilja, he immediately detoured to Cupid. They hadn't spent much time together since the children had been born aside from shared parenthood. They'd see each other while the children were around but this time, Tyr hoped it was just the two of them. Adults, alone, and able to discuss the more serious matters. Like their missing son, and maybe the one who seemed to be distancing themselves.

Bragi, she didn't look as though she was coping well and tyr had been putting off talking to his daughter for much too long. But first, Cupid. He needed to let him know that Tyr hadn't sound naught a pawprint nor a scent of their son on the mainland. He was gone with the water, not a hair left behind.

There was a place in his heart that found it difficult to choose between Freya and Cupid, both leaving an impact on the king and offering a vulnerability to him. Even now, Cupid remained in high regard to the man, but he was no longer a Courtesan to be used. They were on more equal footing. He found the once floral den with ease, calling out to the father of his children with ease that hid his apprehension.

Svanen min (my swan), do you have a moment?

---

Cupid wasn't sure he expected anything from Tyr's search. The likelihood of the boy surviving, no matter the divinity in his blood or resilience in his strange painless form, was slim. The best he could hope for was a body to put into the earth, and that felt like it fell so far short of what was needed to begin to mend the hole in the dove-god's heart.

He put his mind to other matters. The remaining girls, the remnants of Freya's pack that needed to be forged into something new. Tyr, and the loss the man had experienced. Cupid knew it weighed on himself, and he was sure it weighed on the more stoic man no matter the confident face he wore as their new leader.

But there was only so much time in a day, and Cupid's worries had fatigued him. He hadn't found it in himself to chase down the busybody new King; half convinced he wouldn't be welcome in the wake of their...changed relationship and circumstances, half overwhelmed with corralling his daughters, teaching them, and managing his own grief in as much privacy as he could afford without slipping into hermithood.

The lack of visibility in the dimming light blotted out by the storm didn't affect Cupid, but he could neither hear nor smell Tyr's approach until the man called out. Cupid's ears pricked, and he unfurled from his den to peek out. Snowflakes piled atop his muzzle immediately.

For you? Of course. Cupid replied, a little more fond than he'd intended to be...but he was thrilled to have another adult presence nearby to lean on, for once, despite his desire to again be the one to be leaned on, for Tyr's sake.

「 Skill Point ― n/a 」

The voice of his lover cooed through the battling winds like a symphony. It relaxed his demeanour and he seemed to leave his stress at the door - to some extent of course, their son was still missing.

The god walked up to the den as if he knew it like the back of his hand, which he supposed at this point he did. His eyes didn't leave the fair coloured man as he approached, bicoloured eyes watching the blind wolf with a sense of ease. It was habit that he invaded the space of the swan, his head gently butting the side of the exhausted beauty.

You're too kind, he uttered as he pushed his way into the den, leaving the roaring winds behind him. It seemed like it was just the pair of them today, and for a time it was a feeling the male relished in.

His body dropped into a relaxed seat on the nest that Cupid had made, awaiting the company of his so called swan with a lifted leg welcoming the blind man. He wouldn't ruin the moment yet, he just wanted a moment of normalcy, Was that being too selfish?

---

The pressure of Tyr's crown against Cupid's was a now-familiar greeting, and Cupid gently brushed his cheek against the new King's thick winter ruff of fur fondly. He sidestepped to allow Tyr to enter the den, the space cozy with two sizeable adults such as themselves within, but not cramped. It'd taken time to make it so, more than if he'd made it just big enough for himself when the once-Courtesan had dug it. He'd initially intended it to be a sanctuary for those who sought his services or company, but it had instead served as a place to, however briefly, shelter his children from the weathering of life on their fragile mortal forms.

They were a gift he had no words with which to thank Tyr, and a weight on his mind he couldn't truly express. Past stressors like Freya's response to them, their future in the pack, were alleviated - but fresh ones cropped up in their place with each passing day.

Tyr's scent, sweet and rich and freckled with notes of fresh pine, wreathed around the dove-god as the man made himself comfortable. Cupid held onto his muddled worries, their tension coiled in his clenched jaw and furrowed brow, for a second or two longer. Finally, he released them with a soft exhale, ears cupping loosely forward as he listened to Tyr's body nestle into the soft pelts that lined the packed-dirt floor of the den. Perhaps. He grinned, a hint coy, at the flattery.

There was nothing but harm in holding onto those worries for now, and he stepped forward until his nose bumped lightly into Tyr's lifted paw. Cupid's tail swished of its own accord, and he found himself sinking into the embrace before thinking better of it.

Selfishness was a cruel but perhaps accurate word for Cupid's domain, and he muzzled his apprehension as his tongue swept out to clear a few of the last snowflakes clinging to the ends of the man's coat. If this comfort or distraction was what Tyr needed to carry his burdens with a little more peace of mind...Cupid could provide, he knew.

Desire was his realm, and he didn't need sight to navigate it.

「 Skill Point ― n/a 」

Tyr welcomed the warmth that Cupid produced, the father of his children sinking into the embrace that was offered. Cupid's grooming was endearing, but Tyr knew there were matters to be discussed. The god pulled the man in closer, lowering his head and planted a softed kiss to the crest of Cupid's head, resting his nose there for a time as he began to utter the saddened words he did not wish to admit.

I cannot find him, Svanen (swan) his voice was a whisper, an admittance to his failure.

His chest ached at the thought of his son in the wilderness, too young to part take in the trials of survival. Tyr knew he was strong, he held his own against his elder brothers, but all the norseman could hope was that his strength would be enough. This land was unforgiving and at times, lonesome. They had lost a great too many heads over the last couple of months that Tyr was beginning to worry for their own survival.

Hopefully new blood would liven the pack back up, they needed all they could get.

---

Tyr's affection was welcomed, a balm to the weary ache in Cupid's heart. But it lay in stark contrast to the way the man's words cut at that wound deeper. An admission, of what the father already knew: another child, lost to him.

Out of his reach, and most likely, no longer in this world. Cupid's eyes slid shut for a moment, leaning into the kiss atop his crown. A shaky sigh was drawn through his lips, before he swallowed the emotion that had formed a lump in his throat. He reached out with a paw, folding it lightly over one of Tyr's. It is not your fault, Tyr.

He's... in a better place, now, but Cupid didn't know that. He thought of his wailed call for his mother's intervention, calling on the goddess born of the sea to save his son from the cold depths of saltwater; and he wondered what, if any, retribution his goddess Freya would wreak against his son in the afterlife.

We can only move forward. The other children, all of them, He spoke of the prophesized litter, some left behind by their mother's disappearance, as well. He was not in any position to parent them, but they were still only children. He would be there for them in the ways he could, regardless of Cupid's...mixed feelings about the twins who'd attacked Trygve. They still need us.