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Valeska +/- Dimitri ; AW for Avon

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The warmth of the summer was fading, and the atmosphere would harshen as Sreda made her way northwest, traversing the familiar path toward Avon. This time, however, Sreda knew that her path would carve further, beyond the Ichor Fields ... as she would then press further North into the land of the Blood-Breathers. Perhaps, if she was lucky, she too would become a Viking too, much like her Red-Brother Alder.

Plus, if she needed to prove herself, she would be fine pushing his face into the dirt to do so.

But that was not for today.

Today was a day destined to let her family know of her intentions. Her Мать held so much worry lately that it was sickening, really. Мать worried far too much — it was bad for her aging complexion. As a result, Sreda did not wish to add more burden to poor, poor Мать's shoulders (at least not today).

Whoever chose to greet her today would be sufficient. It was a simple message she was here to deliver. She would, at least temporarily, be leaving the home that she'd had for the past three years. She would, at least temporarily, be chasing a Viking Queen into the North on a strange mission to both fortify their home and discover more about the Plague that was destroying the lands of Mythris.

Sreda slowed at the borders, crossing them with a polite and curt wuff as her tufted ears curled forward in search of any of her family.

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The High Priestess lingered, ghost-like, in the small pine forest between Fate's Respite and where the Kingdom of Avon called home. It was a spiritual matter as much as it was emotional for her; the Respite was where she had enjoyed the privilege of seeing Elysium flourish, of forging bonds with fellow packs, where she had laughed and wept and raised her children, so how could she be expected to leave?

True, the plague had lifted to a degree, but it was still unsafe if the only drinkable water was just a slightly lower grade of battery acid.

It was on this day that Valeska chose to venture directly into the heart of the Blushed Meadows, hoping to distract herself with the tantalizing promise of grandpup interaction and seeing her son again. He seemed to be doing much better of late; less tormented than usual, and speaking of far fewer visions of ill portent as compared to months prior. Perhaps it was the necessary focus that childrearing brought that had quelled his terrible dreams.

Yes. Children would do that to a body.

Valeska happened to arrive at precisely the same time as Sreda had decided to make a surprise visit, and she might have wagged in delight at the sight of her daughter if it didn't hurt so much. Ever since Pinesprings had bitten the everliving shit out of her tail, the wound had never truly managed to heal - it didn't help that, once or twice, in her profound ignorance, she dipped her rump into the acidic waters of the Respite in an attempt to 'cleanse' the wound. She was no medic, but if memory served, pain upon application of tonics and herbs was a good thing. It meant it was working.

(It was not working.)

And so the wound festered, and Valeska's tail did not wag, but she smiled so broadly the motion was implied.

Sreda! she said. Всегда приятно тебя видеть. Я до сих пор не могу поверить, насколько ты и остальные выросли.. (It is always wonderful to see you. I still cannot believe how much you and the others have grown.)

Stealing a glance toward the Blushed Meadows, the silver wolf could hardly wait to see her son's silhouette appear on the horizon. Sometimes she still couldn't believe it; Dimitri! A proud parent!

I was just coming to visit the grandpups. How have you been?

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Her Мать was the first to arrive, the familiar scent of snow and pine catching on the cool breeze. Sreda's head would turn, expression typical and terse as her amythyst gaze grazed over the form of her silver mother. But something was off — unusual. An odd scent of decay lingered like a perfume, hovering above Valeska and cracking that perfect complexion.

Had Amaranth done something to her?

Мать, she would greet. Once a child, now a woman, and the black sheep of her family. But Valeska's eyes still held nothing but love for her unusual daughter. Похоже, некоторые семена лучше всего прорастают в темноте. (Some seeds grow best in the darkness, it would seem.) Sreda did not step forward, instead simply allowing her rump to slowly settle into the cold earth. Her tail would flick, moving to rest atop her toes as her gaze lingered on Valeska. Unwavering.

"How have you been?"

If only the answer could be as simple as the question.

There is darkness around us, Мать, the girl would croon, tufted ears flicking forward. I ... have come to (ask you?) tell you something. A mouth that never wavered would stumble on a subtle pause. Sreda's nostrils would flare, catching once more the lingering scent of decay.

She was distracted, that was all.

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Looking up, Valeska appeared puzzled. 'There is darkness around us,' her daughter had stated cryptically, yet apart from the thick haze pressing in around them she could still catch a glimpse of the noonday sun shining weakly overhead.

No matter. Perhaps it was one of those speech-figures.

Sreda settled into a perfect seated position, almost cat-like in her mannerisms as she remained ever precise both in posture and carriage. Despite her love for the macabre, the dark girl - woman - typically kept herself tidy, a trait which fascinated Valeska given how much grave-digging and corpse-looting she did in her spare time.

Well, go on, she encouraged, It must be very important, and I wish to hear it!

'Maybe there are more grandpups on the way,' she thought wistfully.

Then again...

Giving her daughter a quick once-over, Valeska tried to envision Sreda tolerating the company of an unrelated male for longer than a few hours; then tried to picture her harvesting children from the hollow of the Great Tree. But that still begged the question: with who? The outcome of pups required a second party no matter the method - but - there just wasn't anyone -

Valeska abandoned the idea.

But then what could it be?

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“Well, go on! It must be very important, and I wish to hear it!”

Why was Sreda suddenly so silent? The witch-woman would roll her shoulders, releasing the tension from her lower back. Was it annoyance? Was it … the gross stench of motherly attention? Yes, perhaps it was the hot, golden gaze of her mother’s nosey gaze that set her chest aflutter.

I’ve been asked to spend some time at Northfall, she would explain, her voice cleansed with medical precision. By Wardruna. It was added swiftly, perhaps in the hopes that Valeska would not process it for more than what it was — a favor or an alliance.

That’s wall it was, right?

I should hope you won’t suffer so dreadfully in my absence. It was her version of an ‘ask,’ because … really … since Harper had disappeared … well … Elysium was rather short-staffed when it came to healers. And Sreda didn’t want to be the one to tell her mother that their aunt had taken an unfortunate sabbatical. It won’t be forever, the woman would add, as if to accentuate her own thoughts.

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That was not at all what she expected. Puzzled, Valeska tried to run a few plausible scenarios through her mind as to how Wardruna was able to persuade her daughter into becoming a resident of Northfall - and fell short.

In much the same way Dimitri had left the nest, for Sreda also it seemed the time had come.

She wasn't quite sure when it happened, but even more surprising, at some point along the grand journey of motherhood Valeska had very quietly learned to let go.

At least to a degree.

She had left her own homeland as little more than a yearling and forged the path that led her to a future she now wouldn't have changed for anything. Every step from the place she had loved as a child had taken her further into the light, and perhaps - although the thought still filled her with pain - this would be Sreda's light, too.

Valeska looked at her daughter and thought, that was a poor choice of word. Sreda despised the light. Valeska shuffled the sentence back around in her mind, and instead thought, this would be Sreda's ultimate plunge into the infinite darkness she so dearly coveted.

Despite the dark-furred girl's promise that it wouldn't last, her mother smiled gently.

It is alright. I have accepted that I cannot hold onto you forever, she said softly. Моя маленькая тень. (My little shadow.)

Valeska frowned.

But you cannot leave without us first sharing an embrace.

She paused.

Also, you must promise to visit.

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Her words, for a moment, seemed to stun-lock Valeska. It took a lot to get her silver мать to quell her lips, but with Sreda's words, Valeska seemed to disappear somewhere. Somewhere distant, within her own mind and imagination. And Sreda feared for what those visions showed her мать.

There were probably flowers.
And colors.
And loud songs.

Sreda shifted uncomfortably, feeling her skin crawl, not in the way she enjoyed. Her amethyst gaze remained piercing, simply staring at Valeska while the woman drifted in and out of sentience (her mother had a gift, really).

And finally, Valeksa would return to reality,
smiling ... so gently.

It was as ominous as a cold breeze.

"It is alright. I have accepted that I cannot hold onto you forever. Моя маленькая тень."

Sreda felt her skin prickle, fur lifting.

There was a long pause.

"But you cannot leave without us first sharing an embrace."

The witch would stiffen. It was a near-invisible twitch, one that Sreda felt tighten her muscles down to her very core. An embrace? Мать ... she would start, cathing her complaint in her throat before it could go any further. "Also, you must promise to visit."

Sreda did not feel the same emotional pull to a physical embrace as Valeska did. They had always been different in that way. Sreda was as cold as a damp shadow, while Valeska held the warmth of the sun in her lungs. But she was still, regardless of their differences, her mother. And Sreda was cruel, but she was not mean.

Only because it is you, the once child, once girl, now woman would relent, leaving herself bare for her mother's assault.

Sreda could only hope Valeska would break her ribs.

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