event: blood moon
skill: astronomer

In the previous weeks, things had been good. Another artifact had been resurrected from the depths of Mythris, and they were getting closer. Closer to the end of all this madness, of the plague and its worry, it'd set upon their strong shoulders. They could only hold it all for so long before it started to chip away at their resolve. Closer to the start of her and N​ó​ttin's life together, as a married couple, as parents.

But this week, it had raised all kinds of red flags in her mind. There were no visions to accommodate the Blood Moon nor a nightmare. It just was, and Dalamtia found that even more scary than the premonitions. As the darkness deepened throughout the week, her fear intensified. She truly wondered if there would be a week after this one, or if today was their last one.

When the spotted Dove awoke, early as she usually did, the Blood Moon had eaten the stars and any oncoming presence of the sun. She was shocked to find the lack of stars, the empty sky with only one center-piece, the moon's glowing red eye. It seemed to beat in the sky, like a bleeding heart, and she could feel the blood rush in her ears as she backed into the den. There was a heavy mist, it tempted Dal to walk into its coiling tendrils, beckoning her to go to a life beyond this one — maybe where her mother had gone, to become one with the earth itself. But she resisted; here was a life with her fiancé, who slept not far behind her. A fiancé she ran to, in hopes that he could wake her from this childish nightmare.

Nóttin? She cooed into her sleeping lover's ear, trying to remain as calm as she could, but felt almost breathless. Can you wake for me, my Glacier?

This year had really turned into one hell of time. Though they did find another artifact and the plague seemed to be settling down, he couldn't help but feel like this was the calm before the storm. Something was coming yet he couldn't imagine what it might be.

Which is why he had been stirring most of the night from bad dreams that stretched close to nightmares. It wasn't until he heard Dalmatia's voice breaking the insanity in his head, that he woke up to see her lavender eyes looking startled and somewhat afraid.

N​ó​ttin did his best not to jolt awake, not wanting to scare her or worry her. His voice was strong and reassuring, doing his best to be there for her no matter what was currently going on. Is everything alright? What's upset you, my moon song?

The Pillar rose to his feet slowly, stretching himself out with the best of his ability. That's when he noticed the red glaring light that crept at the den's entrance. What on earth is that? What more did they have to contend with? Didn't this world have to deal with enough?

skill: astronomer

It was almost instantaneous as her request sought his consciousness, and there he was, his steady oceanic blue eyes pulling her to shore and out of the swimming ocean of immediate panic. Nóttin's warm-toned voice seeped through the cracks of her fearful heart, I... The Blood Moon... It hasn't gone away yet... And it's morning, my dear. What did it mean? She had no clue.

There was an event like this a few years ago... But it was only for one night. The Moon did not overstay its welcome. Dalmatia informed her love, It did not take the stars with it from what I remember... This shakes her voice, because if there are no stars, then where are the memorials of their loved ones?

Sure, she knew in one way that they were all around them, mosaics of things they loved and people they inspired — but the stars held a vigil every time one died, or at least, in her mind they did. So many stars changed places, shifted over time and seasons, new ones popped up, and others winked out; it was logical in her mind that somewhere up there, there was one for them, and when they blinked out, their souls were born anew.

I... I'm scared, Nóttin. She whispered, as if the leering moon had ears as it did an eye. She wanted to curl up into a ball and throw the safety blanket of her old elk pelt she'd hung up, and hide in Nóttin's chest, and her glossy eyes were glass panes that read exactly what she felt. It was hard to hide someone who saw her even when she was a withering ghost.

N​ó​ttin could tell immediately that something was wrong. The look in her eyes sent him into high alert, his guardian skills kicking in as he rose to his feet. Let me take a look. He moved to the entrance, sticking his head out momentarily so that he could quietly observe. She was right, the world was blanketed in a vast ocean of deep red. Above them, the moon hung in a blood red coloration, ominous in a way as it glared back at them. I have never seen something like this before. I wonder what it means. The Glacier looked back to Dalmatia, urging her to join him and at the same time, letting her know that he would protect her through body language and eye contact alone. Never would he let her come to harm, that was a promise he intended to keep. It doesn't look like it is actually harming anything, so maybe in time it will pass. Do not be afraid, my dear.

skill: astronomer

As N​ó​ttin rose from his seated position next to her, Dalmatia shook slightly; she wanted to blame it on the oncoming cold, but the festering weather was blocked by the hanging of pelts at the entrance of their den. She kept quiet as he walked towards the entrance, holding back the embarrassing request that he stay with her here instead of checking. The lack of stars in the night sky scared her more than she wanted to admit to her fiancé. It was a childish thing to be afraid of a starless sky, where the constellations could not console her wandering mind.

I don't think you were in Mythris for the last Blood Moon... She commented, softly as she started to stand, her legs shaky merely for a few seconds before she took a steady step towards him, his eyes once again pulling her into their safe harbor. I'm worried it has something to do with the curse. She murmured to him, finding his side, her shoulders hunched as her head slowly lifted to look at the sky again.

B-But the stars, my love... Where have they gone? Periwinkle eyes return to his, as she feels her heart throb with the worry that she may never be able to gaze upon the constellations that her mother taught her about, or the tales that came along with them, that lulled her into a soft sleep. They were to always watch over her — and if N​ó​ttin weren't here... She'd feel completely alone. I'm sorry... I can't help it... But be afraid. I want to get married to you... have children... I'm afraid I won't get the chance. She feared so desperately that this curse would take that away from them.

The reddened sky continued to glare back at him, radiating an aura that was off putting. But he wouldn't let such a thing make him fearful, not this time. He had been through too much to let something like this make him stand down. Dalmatia's scared form could be felt as she slowly and cautiously joined him at the entrance. Her eyes went up to the sky as well, her voice breaking the silence as they sat there together. No, I was not. Wish I was though, then I could have met you sooner. N​ó​ttin glanced her way, a small smile flickering across his lips.

It is a little troublesome, but something tells me it might not have to do with the curse. Like everything else, it too shall pass. This time, he did completely look away and meet her periwinkle gaze. Let's go back and get some rest, unless you would like to go outside and explore further. I will follow you where ever you go. As for the stars, they will come back. Do not be afraid. If I have to, I'll chase them down myself. The young sable wolf wasn't sure if he physically could do such a thing, but would go to the ends of the earth to make his beloved happy, no matter what the cost. Just so that she would never be afraid again.

skill: astronomer

The glare of the Blood Moon reigned overhead, casting the world in an ominous maroon glow. What was a Vale graced by the peaceful colors of evergreen and blanketing pure white is now more nightmarish than comforting. The sight of it made Dal shiver, the little kid in her wanting to shy away from this world — it felt like an oncoming nightmare. And when the sky was too much, she looked to Nóttin, finding solid ground beneath her paws.

Her reddened face, reflecting the leering of the moon, deepened, I wish I had met you sooner, too. Would she have been miserable for so long? A smile smoothed across Nóttin's lips, and she found her pulse evening out. Hearing his voice was all she needed to feel safe again, for they were in their own little world when with one another. Even the void-filled sky could melt away.

Nóttin further explained his point, his gaze finding her more interesting than the scowling moon. 'This too shall pass.' Like everything did. Life was a cycle, and whether or not they survived this go-around, the world would turn, and the moon would still glower at the mortals. I... I know you are right, my love... Thank you. For waking up when she asked, for quelling her wandering mind, for being the one to see a waning ghost.

Dal's gaze returned to the sky, her eyes searching for the constellations, maybe if she squinted hard enough, she could see through the fog — spot their faint glow. There is a proposal to return to bed or to explore the outside world. Nearly nothing could get her to go out right now. It would only be if Nóttin had asked her to go with him — as she too would follow him to the ends of the world and back.

For the first time since she woke, a smile perked onto her worried face. You are the sweetest man I have ever met. Dal leaned in, nuzzling into his chest, inhaling the musky scent of pine, Never go too far... The stars can wait... For now, let's go back to bed.

She turned on her paws, retracing the steps back to their shared bed, a collection of different pelts. It was still warm from both their spots curled up beside one another. Nóttin... You... You think of having children, too, right? She remembers the day they met Golde's pups, the look of happiness spread across both of their faces as the unruly children showed their faces. It seemed like they both did, but she'd never truly inquired.

It brought a bigger smile to his face seeing her happy again. He would be damned if he let that awful sky ruin things for his starlight. Of course, my dear. Anything for you. A blush of red hit his face at her own compliments, ears folding back slightly in a soft expression of affection and adoration. The Glacier followed her back to their bed, feeling the warmth that still clung from where they had risen previously. As Dalmatia layed in her spot once more, his ears perked up again at the mentioning of children.

I would want that more then anything. Do you...do you think that I would be a good father? N​ó​ttin was worried about his abilities, the picture of his own father coming back to haunt him. While it had been a long time since he had seen him again in this world, N​ó​ttin couldn't help but worry that he would once again follow in the older male's paw prints. Would he be doomed to repeat the same mistakes as he did? Blue eyes looked to her own purple jewels, hoping that she would have all the answers that he needed, his heart feeling like it was racing.

skill: counselor

As they cozied themselves back into their sleeping spots, the topic of children filled the air. Dalmatia never really had to think on if she wanted children or not — whenever she thought of the future, she'd seen children in it. Little rugrats of her own... It was more the finding another to have them with her, she never thought she'd accomplish. If anything, at most, she thought she'd end up as the designated pupsitter when parents were away — a midwife would be as close as she'd get. But now, with N​ó​ttin in the picture, she didn't have to worry about that. She only had to fret about what he may want.

As he normally does, his answer quells her wandering mind, his answer sending warmth throughout all of her. He is still taller even when they lay side by side, so she has to turn her head a little upward to nuzzle her nose underneath his chin, My Glacier... Of all my worries, you being a good father does not frighten me in slightest. Dal pulled her spotted head away to lay her periwinkle eyes upon his own oceanic depths, You will be an amazing father. She whispers, promising him.