Never Going Back Again [Closed]

[Deleted]

It had to be today.

The idea had been ruminating within her skull for weeks now. In hushed tones, she had conspired with her sister, ever grateful for Nimue’s existence as she planned her escape. They couldn’t live this way for another day, let alone an entire lifetime – trapped on a tiny island still crawling with the youth spawned during the last breeding season, fated to exist as the mate of a warrior or other brute deemed worthy of claiming a daughter of Goliath. No pack like Kairos had ever existed before. Maybe there would never be another like it again. Morrigan had heard the stories of conquering and power. She, like the whole of Anikira, understood what Goliath was capable of.

”If we leave quietly in the night…” No. Morrigan was not a coward. She had feared her father in awed respect in her youth, but she had never forged a bond with the brute. He was too busy to dedicate much time for someone like Morrigan, who had easily faded into the background in the chaos of the mothers’ den. She still respected him. But Morrigan would never be the daughter she was bred to be. She was born to be a disappointment to her family, to her pack.

Soon, it would be too late. She was nearly grown. Soon, if not already, one male or another would notice her within the pack, and then... Well, it was no great secret what would come next. Litters of enormous pups. Blind submission. She had remained carefully hidden away from the pack as she developed. Morrigan did not consider herself a beautiful wolf. Fawn was beautiful. Her younger half-sisters, Castalia and the rest, were all beautiful, blossoming into lovely adolescents as the months crept by and each of Goliath’s offspring grew – some more than others, as their sire’s unusual size had been passed along to many of his children, while others more closely resembled the diminutive stature of their mothers, each of whom was humorously small in comparison to their noble mate. Morrigan was one of the fortunate ones, towering over her dam and the smaller siblings that surrounded her on Ina’mos. Nimue was similarly blessed, but she looked so much like their father… too much, but neither female could help their ancestry.

And now, they had decided that their shared heritage would no longer dictate the path that stretched endlessly before them – winding and shadowed, uncertain, the girls understood that the only way out was to walk away from everything they had ever known and believed. Away from their family, the security of the pack. Nothing and everything awaited them beyond the borders of Kairos. Finally, their lives would belong solely to them.

Nimue was at her side as the sun hung low, close to the eastern horizon, at the beginning of an endless day. The chill of autumn was a welcome relief after the long, torturous summer. She didn’t know whether her father remained on the island, or if Goliath had gone to Vor’asa. Vor’asa was a land that seemed so far away, it was almost the stuff of legends, but it was only one territory in a vast place. Anikira was bigger than she could ever imagine, and Morrigan intended to see it for herself, at long last.

An unconscious sigh escaped the fae's maw as she walked slowly, following the smell she knew would lead them to Messoria. She saw her there, ever familiar dark pelt and comforting scent welcoming her closer as it had when she was younger. Emotion threatened to wear down her resolve as she approached. ”Mother.” The word was barely a whisper on her tongue, with the hesitance of a child. But she inhaled the salty breeze, a familiar facet of her youth for the last time. She knew she would never walk the rocky shores of Ina’mos again, and she was no longer a child. Her posture stiffened, her tone hardened. ”Mother, I have come to you to say goodbye. I – we can’t stay here.”

She didn’t expect the dark female, someone who she resembled so closely, to understand why her mind was set. There was only one choice she would accept, only one future she was willing to fight for – freedom from Kairos, from the confines of the island that had been her home and her prison, a comfort and dreaded all at once. For a fleeting moment, she wished she could convince her mother to come with them, to leave the island and the harem behind, but she knew it would be a useless endeavor. Messoria would never go.

words: 801

tags: Nimue Messoria + @zenith

[Messoria]

It would be a pleasant day, as they tended to be on Ina’mos. The Consort lay nestled beneath the thick canopy of leaves, the rush of the falls singing a gentle lullaby to her pricked ears as she considered the approaching morning. With the majority of the pups gone and her own sons preparing to depart swiftly for the agoge, things had fallen into an easy routine, one that Messoria slid into without hesitation. Undoubtedly she would rise from her resting place with the sun to partake in whatever fresh kill the huntresses brought in, and from there her options were limited; spend time with Hyperion and Croix before they left to become young warriors, lounge on the shores of Ina’mos, or seek out the company of Goliath if he had returned from Vor’asa the previous night. It was always a gamble concerning whether or not her mate had returned for a brief visit; sometimes he would come to her while she slept to share in her warmth, and on other nights it was the Matriarch who he spent his evening with, dividing the time between his mates as evenly as a busy Emperor could. And then there was always the chance that he had not returned at all, instead biding his time by overseeing the young who would soon be returning to Ina’mos, and preparing for the ones who would be leaving…which brought Messoria’s thoughts back to her sons. As much as her heart yearned to spend every waking moment when them before they left her, never again to be considered her pups, she knew that she could not dote on them. Not as she once had.

A soft sigh escaped her muzzle as the sun crept higher, a soft gray light beginning to seep through the leaves. It was the first night since the beginning of summer that Messoria had not slumbered in the caverns. Before, the thick humidity that inevitably came with each moon’s rising had driven the she-wolf to the dens, where the coolness of the stone walls had been a blessed comfort. But now autumn approached swiftly, the crisp chill welcome against Messoria’s thick pelt.

She was just readying herself to rise when the sound of heavy footfall gave her pause. From her place beside the pool Messoria lifted her head with a quizzical tilt. It was very nearly heavy enough to be Goliath himself…but then the unmistakable thumping of a second set drove the guess from her mind. A moment later the mystery resolved itself as two shapes emerged through the lingering paleness of the sky, and immediately a soft smile came to the femme’s muzzle. While the first wolf that her gaze fell upon was certainly the striking image of her mate, Messoria knew immediately that it was Nimue who stood before her, and Morrigan inevitably at her side.

”Mother.”

Morrigan had spoken first, and the smile slipped immediately from Messoria’s maw. While only a single word had been uttered, something in the softness of her usually brazen daughter’s tone and the guarded look in Nimue’s eyes whispered to Messoria that something was amiss. Silently she rose to her delicate paws, amber eyes raking across her daughter’s faces as Morrigan proceeded to explain. Each word fell heavily upon the she-wolf's ears, which flicked back against her skull as her gaze moved from Morrigan to Nimue. ”You feel similarly?” She asked quietly, her gut churning with the realization of what the two intended to do. She could suddenly remember so many nights spent whispering to Morrigan when she was young, trying but failing to convince the pup that she would find her place in Kairos one day. Morrigan had always seemed dissatisfied with her mother’s explanations, and although in her heart Messoria had hoped her speeches would not be in vain, her deepest worries had finally uncoiled and reared their heads. Nimue, however…never had she seemed as restless as her sister, but she’d also been the calmest and quietest of the pups, her thoughts carefully veiled behind pale blue eyes. She’d grown into a perfectly poised lady as Messoria had encouraged her to do…but it seemed as if this had not been enough.

”I do,” Nimue said, and while something flashed in her eyes for the confusion that flitted across Messoria’s features, there was no shame. ”You have taught us so much, and given us even further…but there is more out there, Mother. We wish to see it.”

The determination was written clearly across her daughter’s faces; Messoria saw it and recognized it, her disbelief slowly ebbing away beneath resignation. Kairos did not welcome deserters – even though who were the daughters of the Emperor, and it was this thought that caused fear to sink its claws into the female, her breath coming swiftly despite the blankness of her expression. It was not that Messoria did not care, for it was clear to see that she did, but the she-wolf did not know if she would ever discover a way to simply let go of her children.

”You will not be persuaded.” It was not a question, but Nimue nodded anyways, and Messoria struggled to keep the rising tide of uncertainty and fear off of her face. For just a moment she allowed it to rest there, flickering across her lovely features before she tucked it away. ”Your father will wish to see you.” Only a moment after the words had left her maw the scent of him crept through the underbrush, growing nearer and bringing a myriad of feelings: relief, fear, anger, love, worry. It flowed through her as her gaze flicked towards the forest behind her daughters. For the first time in many moons, it seemed as if it would not be a typical day of pleasantries for the Consort.

TAG: @zenith + @morrigan + Nimue
WORDS: 967
NOTES: merp

[Deleted]

She could feel the growing tension and her mother’s blossoming disappointment hanging like morning mist in the air, but Morrigan would not let her guilt sway her opinion. The words her mother had once whispered to her drifted into her consciousness. Morrigan had heard them one morning when none of the other pups were awake and, for once, only she held her mother’s attention – You are worth more than that. That morning, she hadn’t needed to fight Hyperion for a few rare moments alone with their dam. It seemed like ages ago. She hadn’t needed to chase after Croix, who was troublesome but, in Morrigan’s estimation, not very bright, as the decisions he made often landed him in troublesome situations. Briefly, she thought of her other sister, the youngest of their brood. Would Fawn be livid, or crushed that she and Nimue had gone away? This, too, weighed heavily upon Morrigan’s conscience, but the feeling was useless to her now, and she swept it away like spider webs.

”When I was very little, you told me that someday, I would leave Ina’mos and see the world beyond it. You also said that I would be limited. I could go, but always, the expectation would be waiting me – to return, to be obedient and meek. Now I see that the only way off is to become the mate of a lesser wolf, or to leave on my own accord.” Her tone had grown louder, though Morrigan did not realize it. Her eyes narrowed as the frustration that had been building within her threatened to break the barriers and release itself in a fit of anger, for Morrigan was angry. She was angry that for so long, she had allowed herself to be fooled. She was angry that the alternative had never existed – until now. ”I refuse to become the plaything of a barbarian. We’re more than daughters of Goliath.”

Consort – the title was as useless as a baby animal, and though it upset Morrigan, she knew it was wrong to diminish her mother’s role. It was something Messoria had chosen, and likely, something she would retain until her final breath. The scent of her mother made her heart ache, for she knew it would be a long time before she was in her presence again – if ever. The possibility that this goodbye would be forever had already occurred to Morrigan. She had no regrets, and no apologies to offer. Every second she waited was another second wasted in captivity.

Her mother’s following statement caused Morrigan to snort, though she did not intend to – ”Your father will wish to see you.” Her ice blue eyes turned away from her mother’s dark façade for only a second. Her eyes were even paler than her father’s, uncertain, waiting for the feared beast to appear. She wasn’t sure if she wanted him to come or not, or if he would even be able to recall her name if he did turn up now. With so many sons and daughters to remember, it was probable that there were some that might elude his memory. Even Morrigan had a difficult time keep tracking of the abundance of siblings she had been given by an over-zealous father turned ravenous lover – though the very idea of it made the femme’s stomach turn in disgust. Once, it had seemed so natural, so normal, the way he had taken any bitch he had desired as his own. Whether his lusts were merely passing or symbolic of some greater affection that Morrigan had never herself witnessed, she was old enough now to realize how much it bothered her. It grated her on a deeper level now than she had realized, now that there was no turning back.

He hadn’t come when she was first old enough to leave the den, nor had he come to see Morrigan, ever. Sometimes, he arrived to see the pups, but Morrigan had been easy to miss. She paused, wordless, as the minutes ticked by slowly before finally, the adolescent shook her head. In silence, she stepped forward to meet her mother, to touch her one final time as she nuzzled her mother’s cheek, noting for the final time the absurdity of the size difference between mother and daughter. When she stepped back again, her focus turned to her sister at her side. ”I’m not going to wait the rest of my life for any male. Now we must go.”

words: 777

tags: Messoria Nimue @zenith

[Deleted]

HOVER

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[attr="class","pltxt"]Downwind of their conversation, a dormant figure stood in silence – unseen, unheard, and very much… unhappy. Goliath, having mistakenly wandered within earshot of his daughters’ heartfelt goodbye to their mother, had halted midstride, and too taken aback by Morrigan and Nimue’s decision to leave Kairos, had remained there unmoving. He had no desire to watch them leave, which perhaps was foolish, given the fact that it was likely the last time he would see them. Anger was the first instinct to rear its beastly head, goading him to punish his daughters for their disloyalty to their birth pack – for all that they had been provided in their short life, that so many others were not so blessed to have. They had never known sufferance or squalor, hunger or loneliness, and yet they spoke of Ina’mos as though it was holding them captive… as though they, and all women within it, were something downtrodden. It was clear that living under such ease and protection had softened them; in his mind, there was no other explanation for it. Hardship was not something that they had yet faced, because all evil had been warded away from them as though his life depended on keeping them safe and pure. He knew what it was like to be touched by evil, and that vile imprint still lived inside him. Goliath stood utterly still as a calming breath fled his nostrils, tempering his fierce disagreement with that single morsel of consolation. Perhaps leaving would show them the isolation and filth that he had shielded them from – an isolation he knew all too well, given that the earliest years of his own life were filled with loneliness and terror, when his own parents, his entire natal pack, had been taken from him. Alone in this world… there was nothing; no glamour or honour in being free. Only a hunger to belong, and such unfed starvation was enough to drive one mad.

And drive him mad, it certainly did. That lone flash of insanity born into him grew and grew, with every day he spent in anguish at the loss of his family. His anger festered into lunacy. Fearful, alone, starved – until the day he met Datura, his life held no meaning, because all meaning had been torn from him when Ferus was gone. He had been forced to leave his pack when all but desolation remained on Ina’mos. In contrast, his daughters were choosing to leave their pack – and their decision scorned him, mocked him of the pain that he had endured when that very same decision had been made for him, and his innocence stripped from his smaller bones. In his youth, he would have given his own life to return home to his family – and piece by piece, he had done just that, devoting the remainder of his life towards reforming it. Had he not suffered enough to prove that Kairos, in all of his truest intentions, was built by his own dark heart to keep that same darkness away from his own family. He had founded Kairos upon the grave of Ferus, and made it so much stronger, so the same sufferance could never be felt again by those he loved. In choosing to leave, Nimue and Morrigan spat upon the grave of Ferus. His home. His heart. He would never forgive them for that.

Still, his mind churned to understand them. They wanted freedom? They already had it. The freedom to forge themselves into whatever they wished to be was given to them the day they were born into Kairos, whereas many less fortunate were born into sufferance. Goliath had never allowed them to experience such misfortune. They underestimated themselves, and overestimated him, if they truly believed that he had any power in shaping who they would become.

Silence reigned as the three women awaited his entrance – still, he did not step forward. His anger had not dissipated, but despite all that his daughters were throwing back into his face, he did not wish to part on heinous terms. He would rather them both have no memories of him, than one hideous remembrance of him cursing them both out into the sea. Though he could not see her, he could feel Messoria’s internal sadness in the timbre of her voice, and the ragged silence that took its place. His expression hardened, the grim line of his jowls deepening into a scowl. How could two kind, loving daughters do such a thing to their mother, who had done nothing but love them and care for them each day of their short lives. Morrigan spoke of the mistreatment of women in Kairos, how little they were valued – but of the three of them, it was Nimue and Morrigan that undervalued their mother more than he. He could never abandon Messoria – she held too much meaning to him – but her own daughters were quick to abandon their love for her for the stead of their own self-branded freedom. There were women that came before Morrigan and Nimue, to rise in the ranks of Kairos through ambition and discipline, each with their own purpose, voice and self-founded validity in a pack ruled by men – Xena, Datura, Inara, Kayi. When the world tried to insist they dwell in the dirt with lesser beings, they clawed upwards through blind devotion. And inevitably, there were women that would surely come after them, to draw inspiration from the latter few and, too, rise in the ranks – Lilith, undoubtedly, but also Artemis, Pandora, Banshee, Far… the list was a ceaseless march of women that would hone their skill and find their place in the greatest pack upon Anikira. If his daughters were too feeble to prove themselves, too easily dissuaded by the expectations that Kairos posed, then so be it. They chose instead to run away from home than follow in the pawsteps of stronger women who stayed in the face of adversary. Kairos would not be weakened in their absence.

Whatever Morrigan believed of her mother’s role, she was wrong, and hearing the condemnation in her young voice only reinforced in his mind how fractured their view was, as was their understanding of the crueller world outside of Ina’mos, painted simplistically by the mind of a child. But youth and naivety was to be expected of their yearling hearts – for that, he couldn’t blame them – but to look down upon her own mother by branding her with the same spite as the other Kairos women… he couldn’t bear to dwell on how much that would have hurt Messoria deep down.

I’m not going to wait the rest of my life for any male. Now we must go.

Morrigan’s final words caused a stir in him – not of anger, but of urgency. Urgency to defend and reassure Messoria, that in her daughters’ final moments on Ina’mos, they would not think lesser of her for staying by his side. He could easily allow his daughters to depart, thinking themselves greater beings by forsaking Kairos and embracing a life of independence, but not for a second would he allow them to leave with the belief that Messoria was lesser than them – a plaything to a barbarian, as Morrigan had so tersely described. Messoria was so much more than that – she was divinely bestowed to him, and her honour was his alone to defend.

The discontent in his eyes as he emerged upon the trio’s secluded farewell was an ominous statement of his inner revelation; the cold, glacial blue of his eyes instead ignited with the livid burn of disagreement. His daughters were too young to leave Kairos, far from approaching their nubility, and too willful to recognise the sanctuary that Ina’mos provided for them. No words could describe the terrible disappointment in his heart – no woeful sound or bleating of hopelessness could even glimpse upon it. In the instant he looked upon his two daughters, and saw the solemnity of their eyes as they turned from their mother, his anger dissipated, the primitive instinct replaced instead by a stronger one that he simply could not be repress; the paternal instinct for them to be happy.

His entrance was one of composed silence, and yet in his mind there was a thunderous battle of morals never before faced by the alpha. He had never expected his emotions to subvert so quickly and without forewarning, perhaps because he was not so accustomed to feeling helpless. In a world where the sheer force of his whim was as strong and irrefutable as any force of nature, he was faced with a situation that was out of his control. He had watched other children depart Ina’mos and wade out into the very same sea to begin the Agoge, and felt barely a pang of sadness at their farewell – but this was infinitely different. Those children intended to return, and departed only to proclaim their loyalty and solidify their status within the pack as raw and tested warriors. Nimue and Morrigan departed out of sheer aversion to their pack, abandoning all loyalty, and without even a hint of hesitation that they would never return. The feeling was overwhelming – the empty pit in his chest carved by his initial anger was left hollow in its absence, but gradually, as his eyes studied one divine offspring to the other, something unknown and bittersweet trickled into the strange abyss that prohibited his speech.

Ultimately, he was always prepared for this moment. To farewell his offspring as they travelled to pastures new, driven by their deific bloodline to wander, and conquer. Glory dwelled in their marrow as it did his, their eyes seeing opportunity in a way that no mere mortal ever could, and their souls harbouring a powerful will that was deterred by nothing – nothing, except death. Even then, the threat of death was not enough to ward off their thirst for wonder, which was as much as blessing as it was a curse – an unquenchable thirst, insatiable even to him, a beast with all power over Anikira. To him, that wasn’t enough. For them, it would not be enough either, no matter how many places they traversed or new wolves they encountered. Thirst was never quenched; it was only ever whetted for an instant, before a greater thirst took its place.

As much as he had convinced himself he would be prepared to watch his offspring leave, to see their faces for the last time, he was not so prepared for that moment to come so early. He was no prepared for that moment to be now. They were barely a year old – their supple bodies, large and defined by muscle even still, had much to grow and change. The same would be for their hearts. What they wanted today may not have been what they wanted in another year, but their choice was a grave and absolute one, and could never be reverted. He could respect their decision, and he could loathe their decision, but he could not change it. With that acceptance settling his mind, he approached Messoria’s side, his enormous warmth pressed against hers in a quiet bid to reassure her, and he spoke.

“Try with all your heart to separate yourself from me - neither of you will succeed. My blood is your blood; your enormity is owed to mine, and every colossal stride you take will serve as a reminder. Even in your reflection, it will always be my eyes staring back.”

His voice was low, but far from calm, and harboured an illimitable number of emotions that battled with one another for supremacy – concern, acceptance, and dispute, all melded together in one forlorn tenor. “You can run far from Kairos, but never from me – you’re damned with that until the day you die. So leave, if you must, but if you are to take any of my words with you, let it be these…” he paused, the shadow of a smile moving eerily along his lips as his gaze left theirs, to look down upon the dark figure at his side. “I care deeply for your mother – she is no plaything of mine, but a kindred soul. I love her, and I love both of you.”

Perhaps this was his punishment for watching his family grow from afar, allowing them the distance to mature into their skin before intercepting. He had hoped that one day, his sons and daughters would come to him, willing that he would finally become part of their lives as a father. He had once feared that rearing them intimately from pups would taint them with his instability, as his father's folly had done to him. Madness only begets madness – and the only truth that he had gathered from his short existence, was that lunacy could easily be learned, and there was no amount of love or goodness that could reverse it. Now, he could see that this logic was inherently flawed, and instead of his daughters blossoming and waiting patiently for him to be there, he had merely pushed them away, and distanced himself. Though he had saved them from his madness, they chose to leave him; they were lost to him either way.

What was done was done. Perhaps next time he would learn from this mistake, and oversee the raising of his pups more intently, more affectionately, though in truth he did not blame Messoria for their daughters’ departure. His consort’s loyalty to Kairos was tested and true – there was no doubt in his mind that Messoria had not purposefully encouraged their choice to rebel against Kairos’ ideals. Datura, on the other hand, inwardly seemed to favour her massive daughter’s desire to subvert Kairos’ ideology of gender roles, but it was an encouragement that Goliath now tolerated, as it only served to strengthen Kairos. He knew with all certainty that there was no malice in Datura’s desire to see her daughter prosper, in the same way that he knew Messoria had not pushed her daughters to leave.

Gazing at his daughters once more, perhaps for the final time, his smile vanished in place of something impenetrable and earnest. Softly, the words came to him, a farewell without necessity of the word ‘goodbye’. He could forgive them for leaving, for today, but the same might not be true for any day after that. Absolution was never absolute.

“The world has been kind to you so far – and I hope it will continue to be kind, long after you leave here today.”

Messoria Nimue @morrigan
Words: 2435 omg
OOC: YAY so sorry this took forever. This was a monster to write but I feel it captures his inner turmoil well. I'm soo proud of Nim and Morri, but very sad to see them go out into the big open world e.e

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[Messoria]

For some time after Messoria and Morrigan’s words faded into the dawn, there was silence. The ebony she-wolf stood still as a statue, contemplating Morrigan’s comments as they swirled in her head. Lesser wolf. Barbarian. Leave. Over and over they spun, a whirlwind of both muddled confusion and reluctant realization as they awaited the presence of the titan who lingered in the trees. Goliath was near, Messoria could feel it as surely as she could scent him on the wind, and yet he had not appeared yet. Perhaps he was further than she’d originally anticipated…or perhaps the realization that two of his own blood were leaving was as stunning to him as it was to her.

Amber orbs flashed as movement drew Messoria’s attention, her heart aching as Morrigan stepped forward to brush her muzzle against Messoria’s cheek. When she stepped away, it took everything within Messoria not to sigh and lurch forward, not to beg her daughters to stay. Messoria’s pride had never been a small thing, but had it guaranteed that Nimue and Morrigan would remain there with her, the mother would have tossed aside her own ego and groveled. But she knew it would not. They were leaving – now – and she would stand and watch. She would follow them silently to the shore, standing concealed in the shadows and watching as her daughters were carried away by the waves until she could see them no more.

And then suddenly, just as Nimue began to turn to follow her sister, Goliath was there. Panic coursed steadily through Messoria’s veins as her gaze slid to him, her eyes like bottomless pits of uncertainty and doubt. She should be happy for her daughters, she knew – and she was happy for them – but she worried. And Goliath…would he respond to their intentions with rage? Or indifference? Messoria had long ago perfected the art of composing herself, of standing on steady legs with her head tilted just so, the picture of elegance, and yet she could not help the emotions that shone in her eyes as she stared pleadingly at her mate. 

He approached slowly but surely, coming to a halt close beside her, the heady scent of him offering Messoria comfort as her side brushed his. He was strong and solid, something to ground her frenzied thoughts, and she paused to suck in a breath of air as she momentarily leaned against him. He was a crutch of support when she most needed it; she drew strength from his silent presence until suddenly he was silent no more, and Messoria straightened as his words fell deliberately around them. His admission of his feelings for her was something she had known in her heart – and yet it was still a blessed comfort to hear the confirmation upon Goliath’s lips. Her own adoration, she knew, shone clear as day as she stood with him, expression lit by silent appreciation and tenderness as she was steadied by his very being.

When he’d finished speaking, Messoria’s gaze returned to her daughters, taking them in – Nimue, who looked so extraordinarily like her father, and Morrigan, who had always been so intelligent and sharp of wit. Her inquisitive nature had been endearing as a young one, but now…now it was a valuable quality in an adult. Both of them would go far. Messoria was sure of it.

”No matter what,” she said after a moment, her voice soft but certain, her smile sad as she repeated Goliath’s previous sentiment. ”We love you both, so dearly.”

From the time they’d taken their first breaths, Messoria had provided for them. She had poured her heart, her will, her very essence into shaping them, into loving them. She had nurtured them from her side, lying awake in that dark cavern on so many nights simply so that she could marvel over them, long before their eyes had opened. She watched them as they grew, offering sharp rebuttals that at the time they might have thought harsh – but that always stemmed from her desire for them to thrive. She’d allowed them to grow into themselves, silently watching as their personalities grew, offering her wisdom when she could and her comfort when desired. Messoria had not always known how to love, but her children had blessed her with that budding ability on a chilly spring morning when the vast air first touched their blood-slicked pelts. And so now, when Messoria found herself remembering how much she had given them, and lamenting over the things that she had not, she knew that the only thing left for her to give was a gift that they had bestowed so unexpectedly upon her: love. She did not care if it made her soft or weak in that moment; it shone in the shadows of her eyes, it settled softly upon the features of her face until there was no mistaking the emotion radiating like sun rays from Messoria.

TAG: @morrigan Nimue @zenith
WORDS: 828
NOTES: I was gonna wait and post this along with Nimue's buuut this reply burned me out and ate up all my muse xD Nimue's will be posted tomorrow! <3

[Deleted]

The silent pause was interrupted by the heavy sound of massive paws moving closer, and Morrigan’s breath hitched in her throat in anticipation. She did not miss the look in her mother’s eyes when Goliath appeared – something akin to fear and awe. As a pup, Morrigan was nervous around her father. She heard the stories about him and his endeavors, saw how much bigger he was than her mother. She was not afraid of him now, even though he was imposing. Instinctively, Morrigan knew that he would not understand. How could he? He had never walked the path of a female – born to be subjugated, existing here to breed and to serve. However glamorous it seemed to Messoria and others like her, it was not enough for Morrigan. It was a comfortable existence, but a plush life of privilege and sanctimony was not enough to satisfy the dark speckled daughter of Goliath.

“Try with all your heart to separate yourself from me - neither of you will succeed. My blood is your blood; your enormity is owed to mine, and every colossal stride you take will serve as a reminder. Even in your reflection, it will always be my eyes staring back.” Almost the instant that the great alpha arrived, the focus of the conversation swiftly shifted to Goliath, as all things in Kairos seemed to do, whether or not the brute was present on the island. She stared at him as he continued speaking, her heart thudding wildly within her ribcage, body readying itself for an attack. ”“You can run far from Kairos, but never from me – you’re damned with that until the day you die. So leave, if you must, but if you are to take any of my words with you, let it be these… I care deeply for your mother – she is no plaything of mine, but a kindred soul. I love her, and I love both of you.”

Morrigan’s façade did not betray any emotion as she wondered: How many kindred souls could one wolf have? Morrigan thought of Tala… the terror in her eyes and in her shrinking form, and the timidity of her daughters. The notion of one mate was unsavory, but to have an entire harem was unfathomable to Morrigan. Father and daughter were too different. With some effort, Morrigan remained silent, though her fiery instinct was to argue – How could he love his child, something he didn’t know at all? She had no doubt that this came as a surprise to her sire. He had never taken the time to have a conversation with Morrigan. In her memories, she saw his back as he walked away, off to more important business of Kairos that Morrigan wasn’t meant to understand.

”No matter what. We love you both, so dearly.” Her mother’s words made her chest feel hollow, as if boulders had replaced her lungs, leaving her breathless, crushed. Perhaps it would have been different if she were a boy. Maybe then, the Agoge would have been all-consuming, instead of a looming future of motherhood and an endless cavalcade of pups and heats and breeding seasons that only stopped when a female was dead or too old.

Drawing a steadying breath, Morrigan’s pale gaze locked with her father’s. ”I’m not trying to disavow my family. I’m not trying to run. I’m not ashamed of where I came from. You will always be my father. I may not agree with you, but I still respect you for all you have done.” She paused for only a second. Would he be ashamed when he could no longer see her? ”My mother made the decision to join Kairos, to devote her life to you and to the seasons. If this is where she is content, then…” She looked at Messoria, who seemed more comfortable now that she stood in the shadow of her mate. ”Then this is her choice.” Morrigan felt a keen sense of sadness, knowing what the coming months would bring: Messoria would again be taking her life into her own hands to live up to the expectations, to deliver more pups when the birth of her first litter had nearly killed her. Still, Morrigan could not say these things aloud, especially when Goliath was staring at her so intently – they were closer to being eye level than Morrigan remembered.

”But this is not what I choose – not because I dislike you or anyone else, or out of spite, this just…” She looked to Nimue as if searching for the right words, having no interest in fighting her father. ”This isn’t where I belong anymore.” She would not apologize for her decision, for Morrigan knew that even if she died tomorrow, she would regret nothing. Living a short, exciting life in the world beyond would be far greater than a long, languishing life spent in Kairos.

words:  844

tags: Nimue + @zenith + Messoria