○ ʙᴇɢɪɴɴɪɴɢ {ᴄɪᴀʀ}

[Raksha]

One moon cycle had passed since she had joined Valyn and the Kairos brute had raped her. Even when everything else had changed, the moon seemed to carry on as usual. Full. Waxing gibbous. First quarter. Waxing crescent. New. Waning crescent. Third quarter. Waning gibbous. Repeat. The moon cycle had been taught to her from a young age, a marker of time, intervals of aging. The smaller things in life were the most comforting, it seemed. The moon was ever the same, something to hold onto in these times of change. When everything else was crumbling down, it was the moon that would not waver, always there to watch over the world at night even when clouds blanketed its pale face, hiding the disk of white from Anikira.

Although it was subtle, there was an undeniable curve on Raksha's belly. It seemed that, despite everything, the dark female had conceived and was carrying her rapist's young. She felt terrible, bearing such a disgusting brute's offspring, but she could not be prejudiced against the unborn pups, for they were her offspring too. It was not their fault, no. It was their mother's fault for being stupid enough to flee into claimed territory, claimed by the fearsome Kairos nonetheless. She had been foolish and now there would be innocent lives raised without a father, just as Raksha had. In fact, they would not even know their father! At least Raksha had known her parents, at least they had loved each other despite being scarce in each other's lives!

What kind of life would her sons, if she was to have any, live? After spending some time in Valyn, it seemed that they were not so prejudiced against males after all, but she still worried for how they would be treated. Even if she would be more wary of them for their gender, that did not change the fact that she would love all pups, regardless of pack, gender, appearance, or anything. Already, despite not knowing a thing about them, Raksha loved her pups unconditionally and would die fighting for them. It was the strangest phenomenon, being a mother. Biology seemed to give mothers such fierce love that it scared Raksha slightly, feeling so strongly about these little lives who were yet to exist.

Sighing, Raksha flicked her luminous yellow optics back down, away from the glowing crescent hung in the night sky and back towards the cool water that she was bathing in, using her rough tongue to caress her stomach. There is life growing in there. I'm going to be a mother again. I never stopped being one in the first place, in fact.

.: OOC :.

Words: 457
Tags: Ciar
Notes: So excited for them! <3
Muse: Great

[Ciar]

Since his initial meeting with Valeria, things had seemed to look up slightly. He had not talked to any wolves; they seemed to have avoided him, ignored him, which was good. It was familiar. Now, if only he had some chores to do in order to pass the time... But you have a chore, the familiar voice snapped. It had plagued Ciar for so long that he no longer had a reaction to it, simply listening and agreeing to its statements and commands. Since his family had died, there had been a voice, one of his mother, constantly berating the Maned dominant for his actions.

Your chore is to learn how to hunt, which you could never do, you lazy, lying fool.

So... Could Ciar find aquatic prey? He asked the question internally, awaiting his deceased mother's response but to no avail. It seemed that she wanted for him to discover prey for himself. An inner, hitherto repressed curiosity burned within Ciar, urging him on to what he knew was Enackir Hot Springs. He had never encountered any hot springs before in his fairly short lifetime so he was rather intrigued as to if any life could endure the heat of its water.

However, as a red muzzle began to dip down in order to filter through the Springs' warmth, it appeared that one particular black she-wolf had forgotten to avoid Ciar. As he approached, it became apparent that she also had cream dashed through the dark fur. It took a moment of fascination, gazing at the beautiful, yellow-eyed fae before Ciar came to his senses and remembered his manners. Snapping out of it, he showed himself and ducked his head, tail tucking between his legs as the unique mixed breed stood respectfully before the pretty, taller femme.

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Words: 305
Tags: Raksha
Notes: Spacey tables =D
Muse: Picking up

[Raksha]

A pale-marked muzzle raised from cleaning a mottled black-and-cream underbelly before Raksha's dark pupils diluted in surprise at a rather handsome male who had approached. Wary but inexplicably drawn towards him, the Principality made no attempt to move, instead looking over the exotic breed for a moment. Their eyes, vivid yellow and emerald green respectively, locked upon each other for what must have been not long yet it felt like an eternity for Raksha. Then, catching the yellow-eyed femme by surprise, the male's head ducked down and his tail slipped between his legs. Had Rak done something?

He was male so, naturally, the Valyn fae was wary but he seemed so small and feeble. Could the poor wolf really harm Raksha?

"Er... Hello, sir. Are you all right?" she began gently, still guarded in tone but warm and open, like a mother. He looked about the age of what Raksha's first litter would have been had their mother not allowed them to die—no, no, she could not think of that now. She had to suppress the memories, push away the pain... Then it could stop...

But he seemed so small and fragile, like a young puppy, and despite his gender, the mother's maternal senses kicked in and overrode her rational thoughts of caution. Deciding that she should get to know the smaller male first, Raksha enquired, "How about you tell me your name? I won't hurt you. I'm Raksha."

Why was he like this? No other male had done this before—not even a female, for that matter. This thing was completely unique, different to all others. Was he even a wolf? He looked like he was of a different species although something about him was distinctly canine in manner, suggesting that he was some rare breed of wolf. Perhaps this breed was more submissive and anxious in behaviour.

.: OOC :.

Words: 322
Tags: Ciar
Notes: Bleh short
Muse: Decent

[Ciar]

Oh no. She was trying to talk to Ciar. What would he say in reply? Thoughts of failure and how he could mess up his wording ran through his head. Why was she calling him 'sir'? He did not deserve that. He had not joined a matriarchal pack for this! But he did deserve to be deceived... Why should he have been granted happiness? You're so selfish, Ciar reprimanded himself, an image of his mother snarling flashing into his mind's eye.

"A-a-all right...?" the Squire stammered, repeating his superior's words, not knowing what else to do. Self-loathing bubbled within him, a feeling of inadequacy. How stupid of him! Had he forgotten something as simple as how to speak? "I'm... I'm fine, thanks," he muttered finally, after grasping for words for a moment.

But no, he was not fine. He was not fine. Valyn was not fine. It treated him as an equal, with responsibilities and with respect. How was he to know what to do in such a position? He could not hunt. He could not fight. He knew nothing of herbs or of healing or poisoning. In everyday pack ranks, Ciar was a failure, useless, a dead weight. The Maned dominant might as well have been dead for all he was worth. Why hadn't Valeria accepted his offer to be used as battle fodder, or to serve as slave? Serving as a slave would mean zero decisions to be made on his end and being battle fodder required no skill. There was simply no logic in putting such a hopeless being in a higher position that required ability and intelligence, both of which the exotic mixed breed did not have.

And then the mottled femme asked her next question. She introduced herself as Raksha before asking for the red-and-gold male's name. Seeing it as a command, Ciar felt like he was back in his old pack again, following orders, doing what he did best. "Ciar, miss. My name is Ciar."

He then dared to glance up at her, averting emerald green orbs from the bubbling water beneath his paws. Rak's eyes were warm and gentle, looking at him in the same way that his packmates had looked at him in his prison cell. Pitying. She pitied him. Whilst Ciar did not think that he deserved others' pity, it was far better than being seen as a friend, an equal, he had to admit.

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Words: 425
Tags: Raksha
Notes: This is an okay post considering that I nearly fell asleep halfway through writing it. Now I must go to bed O.-
Muse: what's a muse

[Raksha]

Although Raksha would usually have awkwardly left in such uncomfortable situations, the fae's innate desire to help others took dominance, taking pity on the fragile appearance of this wolf. And so she stayed, silently patient as the shy male stated that he was all right. The mottled femme did not know how to react outwardly, although she did make an internal comment. You sure don't look all right.

Unsure of how the exotic mixed breed would respond although desperate to improve his situation, whatever it was, just slightly perhaps, she walked up to the timid canine and nuzzled him gently on the side of his head. She tried to not be intrusive but rather welcoming and open, as if to invite him to share his woes but in no way pressuring him. Hopefully, the submissive stranger would become more friendly with the cream-marked femme's touch rather than shrink away. Raksha just wanted to help, not to mess things up more than they were already...

The memory of her pups' mangled corpses forced itself into her mind's eye, her biggest mess up yet. She had failed, so very terribly—failed Aden in raising his pups, failed her parents in continuing their humble little legacy, and not only had she failed them in that way, but she had failed to do her job as their loved one. She was supposed to have protected them, but no, they had died, all because of her... Rak's breathing hitched and became slightly laboured, trying to calm down from the overwhelming guilt and anger. There was no way to describe that emotion, no way at all, apart from grief, from mourning. It was a strange, cruel emotion, grief was. Grief seemed to dissipate at times, seeming to have left one alone completely before it ambushed them unaware, broke them down, piled down immeasurable pain onto one's shoulders. Grief was volatile and it varied between mourners so widely that it could barely be described as the same feeling. Some blamed others and some blamed themselves; some were immensely depressed and melancholy whilst others felt fury, red hot ire raging through their veins for seemingly no reason at all. Some hated themselves for it and some hated the dead for it; some broke down completely and some walked through it tall and confident.

And so, with these, thoughts, Raksha wondered if, perhaps, Ciar, as he had just introduced himself, was suffering from this very feeling, this very burden, of having a loved one's death upon their shoulders? It was indeed a heavy weight to carry and would explain his jitteriness and reserved nature. She spoke, with no conviction or force, simply an invitation, just like when she had softly nuzzled her gold-and-red packmate.

"So... What brought you to Valyn? And is there anything, anything at all, that you wish to talk about? I can just listen if you want or discuss it with you and try to help. It's completely up to you; I just... I don't think that you seem all right, no offense. Life's hardships are easier when shared with a friend, or acquaintance, or complete stranger." The last part had been directed at Ciar and Raksha specifically. Whether they were considered acquaintances or virtual strangers did not matter; each one seemed to hold hardships of their own, and each one would be better off sharing their troubles with another.

.: OOC :.

Words: 589
Tags: Ciar
Notes: Boo this post is total crap but hopefully you can work with it <3
Muse: Decent