Skill: hunter 1/5

Isaiah honestly had not taken the time to approach the new sector of their family. It wasn't that he was blaming the puppies, or Archon's mate. He was wildly angry with his brother, and that sort of hurt took a repetitive barrage when it came to the slights he felt. The other part, the bigger part, the screaming part of him, did not know if he could bear being near another mother. The loss of his own mother had hurt him in ways that he could not truly handle - it was still a raw wound that rubbed and rotted.

Isaiah had to steel himself, though, as the months crept on, and he heard whispers from some of the girls about things - the Blushed Meadows had been where he had come into the world even, which had to be some part of some cosmic nod that he should be being a better person. He should have been nurturing some relationship with the rest of his family, given what had happened with his parents.

He still didn't want to address that even as it hurt him, so he pointed away from those thoughts and pressed on. It always gave him some comfort to run down prey, following the scent of what he thought might be a lone doe out amongst the scarce foliage. He had never truly understood why the scarce distance between their homelands and here made that much of a difference. If he'd known anything about the mechanics of plate tectonics, about the potential for there to be hot springs miles beneath the soil, well - it would have been interesting, but Isaiah didn't parse it out that far. He knew he liked things of the earth when it came to the trinkets he gathered, but what he spent his morning focused on was the live trail. The doe itself wasn't too big - this was probably her first winter, but when he'd struck her down, it didn't take too long. He was getting significantly better at consciously fighting the bouts of his exhaustion and the fog it rolled over his mind, which was probably due in part to the many, many small boxes that he shoved his feelings into and then shoved those small boxes into slightly larger boxes, and then shoved them into a forgotten closet full of off-season decorations to be dealt with approximately never.

So it became easier as the blotted wolf drug the doe by the neck, awkwardly stiff in his gait, approximately to the doorstep of his extended family. He dropped the kill and then backed up before calling out - hopefully Fable would hear him.

Skill: --- (1/5)

It seemed that few moments of her life were now spent alone. Every action required company in the form of children, even if it was Fable taking a moment to relieve herself.

No one peed alone, it seemed - there always had to be a supervisor.

Today was no exception. As Fable made the rounds at the northern edge of the border, she had a companion in the form of Aisling, who she had already had to carry part of the way when her tiny legs got tired. It was not exactly convenient, but taking her on excursions seemed to curb some of her adventurous spirit and ensured she slept soundly at night - a tired pup was a well-behaved pup, she was learning.

It wasn't entirely different from human children in that way.

When she heard the unfamiliar call, she paused to discern its location. It seemed to come from Dawnbreak's side and a knot of worry wove itself into her stomach. Had something happened? The call did not sound urgent, but she immediately angled her body toward its origin all the same.

She already knew it belonged to a voice she did not know, but she immediately recognized the face when Isaiah's dark form drew into view. Fable placed him as one of Archon's younger brothers, but his name eluded her. The dreamer recalled seeing him in passing when she and Archon had visited in the wake of Olive's death and, given his youthful appearance, she wondered how he was faring.

No one deserved to be so young and endure such loss and heartache.

A welcoming smile pooled across her muzzle as she approached him, tail set in a sociable sway.

Dia duit, Fable greeted him, glancing from him and to the doe he had taken down. She was not bold enough to presume it was for them, though Aisling had already bounded past her mother's stalled paws to sniff inquisitively at the fallen beast with her tail abuzz. Ye are Archon's brother - I regret we haven't spoken before.

Skill: hunter 2/5

There was always something about hunting that made him feel productive. He didn't have to feel as inadequate because of the way he'd fall asleep at random, hunting was something he did alone and no one had to know if he fell asleep while tracking. It made him feel more normal, with a job to focus on and a way to contribute to Dawnbreak. This time though, it felt appropriate to do something for this branch of his family, even if he felt distanced from them. It was harder to try and mend that bridge with Archon, he wasn't there yet. He didn't care to be there yet.

He didn't have to wait too long before he was approached by Fable, his head dipping politely to her. Oh good, you're not dead. He muttered under his breath, without even considering if she'd be able to hear. He licked his maw again to make sure that he was presentable, but it felt obvious enough to him at least that he would be offering the kill to their family. He couldn't help the way his eyes softened as he looked upon the little pup, immediately struck with the memories of playing in the meadow at her age too. Ah, yes, I'm Isaiah. It didn't surprise him that he wasn't known by name - Archon probably hadn't done too much talking about him after the whole boar incident that he still hadn't let go of.

He'd had no idea what she'd said originally - unfamiliar with the language that she'd spoken, but her tone had been pleasant enough so Isaiah moved right on past it. He finally pulled his gaze up from the puppy before gesturing to the doe. I brought you dinner. I realized I hadn't really uh...welcomed you. He'd barely remembered the weeks immediately following Olive's death, they all blurred together in a haze of feeling alone and lost. He'd lost both his parents - and Tiberius hadn't been around again. Isaiah had no plans to go out and hunt him down. His place was with his siblings and with Dawnbreak.

And as she was Archon's mate, that included Fable now. Who might this little gem be? Isaiah asked as he returned his gaze to meet Fable's eyes - and once he'd found some more out about the kids, he would need to find them their perfect crystals too. It still felt so strange to consider Archon a father.

SKILL : - - - ( 1 / 5 )

Aisling was overjoyed to follow her mother on her patrol - even moreso when a howl rang out. That hadn't happened on any of the forays prior, making this possibly the most exciting one she had ever been present for. She eagerly followed Fable as the pink-toned wolf navigated toward the source, and much to the tenderheart's surprise, there was not a familiar face waiting for them when they got there.

It was a dark-coated wolf who looked a bit like a deer - he was a lot taller than her, so maybe he was a deer. Silver lilac eyes were round with wonder as she looked up at him while Fable greeted him, her tiny mouth a small "o" in open curiosity. Finally, she looked away, but only to look at the deer he brought with him-

Wait, did deer hunt other deer? Her small brows rose as she processed this alarming development. Did this mean deer ate meat, just like them? She hadn't ever looked at their teeth, and mathair told her that wolves ate meat on account of their sharp teeth. Before Fable could stop her, she pressed forward and began to paw at the deer's snout, attempting to see if her theory was true-

Suddenly, before she could discover if deer also wore a fearsome set of hook-like teeth, the attention had shifted to her. Her paws immediately dropped to the ground beneath her, as if she hadn't been playing with her dinner, and smiled brightly up at the Black Deer.

M'name is Asslin, she announced proudly, her infantile speech fumbling around her Irish name. A thoroughly mortified Fable, from behind her, hurriedly corrected her in a whisper that it was Aisling. Wasn't that what she'd said?

Asslin, she repeated, for emphasis, her chest puffed out and her tail waving frantically.

Fable sighed.

SKILL : - - - ( 1 / 5 )

Her ears twitched at the strange words - dead? Fable's brain ticked away at why he would say such a thing, but the words settled sourly in her gut; it seemed like something one would not simply say for no reason... but she was reluctant to pry with her young daughter's ears within range of the conversation.

She would have to ask Shiloh later if all was well in Dawnbreak. He would know better than she, given he spent a chunk of the summer with them. Perhaps they had seen great loss, and it was a statement made out of relief?

Whatever the case, she would find out - just not right this moment.

The dreamer pretended she hadn't heard, her expression unfazed by her thoughts.

It's nice t'finally put a name t'your face, Fable offered, her tail swaying at her heels. Though I'm sorry it has taken this long - our territories were so far apart.

It was something she harbored some guilt about. If she had never met Archon here, would he and his family have been happier and more cohesive? She supposed some of the distance driven between them had existed even before she arrived, but she would do what she could to help them bridge their differences. After all, she had uprooted herself - while pregnant - to come back to the Meadows just south of the Vale. If that didn't prove her commitment, then she wasn't sure what would.

Her sight lowered to the deer at his paws before rising once more, a smile pooling across her muzzle. Ye have m'thanks - it can be hard t' get out an' hunt with th' wee ones underfoot, she admitted, her voice warm with first praise and then affection as she referred to her daughters. Sometimes, the role of mother was a daunting task, but it was always a worthy one. Ye must be a strong hunter t'bring one o' those down on your own.

Isaiah's attention moved to Aisling and, before Fable could introduce her, her young daughter did the honors herself.

Asslin, she said her name was.

Asslin.

Fable could feel her stomach flip in embarrassment, her face heating as it simultaneously felt like all the blood drained from her body. Oh no.

She bent her neck forward, her muzzle lowered to Aisling's ear, to remind her in a whisper, It's Aisling.

The only sign Aisling gave her that she listened to a word she said was a rumple of her brow, as if confused about why she was being corrected. To her horror, Aisling repeated Asslin - this time louder and with greater pride.

A sigh, heavier than she intended, pressed past her lips. Fable straightened her frame, a forced smile across her muzzle as she looked to Isaiah, praying he didn't think she had named her child Asslin.

This is your uncle, Aisling, Fable blurted out, making a point of speaking her name correctly. He lives in your athair's home right next door t'us.