[B] Impending Doom [Crossed Call, Wildflower Breeze]

[Scaramouche Fandango]

Ducks were heavier than Crossed Call thought they were. The meaty bird flopped awkwardly as he clenched his teeth around its neck; it slowed him down significantly as he had to negotiate its graceless bulk. He was currently wandering around the swamp gingerly carrying a dead duck in his mouth- mind the feathers now, and don't bruise it too much- and looking for a stag of some reputation. There was an aching feeling in the pit of his stomach, a sense of dread that he'd carried ever since Never had informed him she was pregnant. It had been matter-of-fact; he'd seen romance before and heard of the joys of starting a family, but this hadn't been that. What they had was... something else. They were hard to define; he hesitated to put terms to their relationship because if he let himself think about it, he didn't know what it was. They weren't lovers. They weren't even really friends. And now they were going to have children together...

Honestly, he wasn't sure he was up to the task. He wasn't sure if she was up to the task. It wasn't something they'd talked about and it wasn't something he knew how to talk about in the first place. But there were those who could help. Those whose words and wisdom could soothe away worries, or at least help make things clearer. He would seek out this stag and try to get the swamp's blessing for the children- and then he'd figure things out. He bore them no malice; he only wanted the best for them.

He just wasn't sure that was him.

Something in the distance; a flash of orange. Tracks nearby; scent in the air. He was unsettled, but not unseated; he still had some of his wits about him. Never would have pinned the stag down by now, but Never wasn't here; he was. He rose on his hind legs to get a better look; yes, this was probably the one he was looking for.  

[theCorniest]

It was also the one looking for him, oddly enough. Part of his being one of Matope's blessed was answering their calls to duty. There was a certain itch in the nose, or maybe a tightness of skin or unsettling of fur - some minor discomfort, accompanied by a subtle, but by no means weak pull in the right direction. Right towards some distraught first-time parent, most of the time. The stag was only too familiar with the Motherfather's directions.

When Crossed Call rose up, it caught Wildflower Breeze's eye. The duck was a nice gift - he'd been on the move all day, he was positively famished. Breeze called out a greeting tinged with the anticipation of relief twofold.

"Hello there! Can I help you?"  

[Scaramouche Fandango]

Something akin to peace washed over Crossed Call's face as the stag approached; yes, this was who he was looking for. "I've heard there's a kin 'round these parts who's good at helping... kin who are going to have children. I'm inclined to believe that's you." He dropped the duck gently at the other kin's feet, then looked up at him plaintively. It was an odd look for Cross; he generally was far more stoic and didn't particularly care to express weakness. "They say your advice is good- that you know what to say and how to say it. I must confess that I am... lost." He floundered for words; normally, his tongue and mind moved as one, but he had so much going on in his head that it was hard to accurately get at what he wanted to say. "I come seeking a blessing for my children, but also- if it wouldn't be too much trouble- I come seeking help."
 

[theCorniest]

Ahh, the poor fellow seemed to be up to his shoulders in it. One of the usual sort, nervous and unsure, simply needing reassurance? Or perhaps he was in some deeper trouble?

"That is me indeed," the stag said with a gentle nod, definitely not checking out that choice duck. Business first.

"I can provide both of the things you seek. Here, sit and rest a while, tell me of your troubles." He eased himself gently to the ground. "I cannot claim my advice will be precisely what you need, but I will do my best to help you."  

[Scaramouche Fandango]

How to describe what he was feeling? How to describe the shrieking anxiety that kept him from sleep, the heart-wrenching worry that haunted his waking hours and what fitful dreams he'd been able to have as of late. Still, this was someone he could talk to, and Crossed Call had to get this off of his chest- if he didn't, he'd suffocate.

"My children's mother... is wild. Wonderful, fierce, astounding. She's a force of nature- but as amazing as she is, she is not kind. She is not patient. She is not gentle; she is a hunter, through and through, and so talented and sharp. She's the most enchanting creature I've ever met; it wasn't difficult to fall under her spell. I thought I was strong, but a string of words from her and I'm brought to my knees. And I am no better; I am driven, haunted, always on the move. The time I've spent with her is the longest time I've ever spent in one place. But what we have... it's a dalliance. It's hard to describe, but I know what it is not and that is a family. We're missing something crucial, and the thought of raising children together gnaws at me. I don't know if we could be a cohesive family; I worry that our children are going to suffer. There's..." He stopped for a moment, fighting the lump in his throat. "I only want the best for them. Abandoning them outright- it's not an option. I know there are many who do that; I know the swamp provides, but I just- I can't. I can't see that happening. I want them to know what it means to be part of a family. There's a place we could take them, I think- maybe even a couple of places- places where they'd grow up safe and happy. The vital element I worry about is love. I would love them, this much I know- and she could love them, maybe. But love isn't enough. It's not safety, it's not security, it's not happiness. Is the guarantee of one worth the other? I want them to grow up knowing love, but I don't want that to come at the cost of growing up happy. And it's not fair to stay together just for them- they'd know, I think. Children are perceptive, and I don't want a dull, casual background cruelty born out of two kin who are only together because they have to be (as opposed to two kin who want to be together) to be their basis for understanding relationships. Perhaps I'm being pessimistic- perhaps we could make it work, if we really wanted to. But I know she doesn't want to, and I'm afraid... I'm afraid that alone or together, no matter what we did, we'd ruin them." He was aware that his voice had become very small, but there was nothing he could do about it. Powerless. That was the word he was looking for. He wasn't just weak, he was completely powerless.
 

[theCorniest]

As Crossed Call spoke, Wildflower Breeze was alert, attentive, and concerned. Shoulders might've been a low estimate; it sounded more like he was drowning. He remained silent for a moment after Crossed finished, carefully considering his words.

"That is... certainly a predicament," he began. "Trying to force your relationship to be something it isn't... doesn't sound like it would work, from how you've described your mate - and you're right, the children would know if the relationship was forced. It is very, very difficult to hide things from children," he added wearily, then shook his head. How to phrase this delicately?

"Unfortunately, there's no two ways about it... I don't think it sounds like you're at a point in your life where you should be raising children. There may yet be a time and place for it, but it sounds to me like this is not it. You may not think so, but a tribe, or an adoptive family, would love them every bit as much as you could - compromising their safety in the name of love would be a selfish decision, made of your own desire to be in their lives. These are hard words to hear," he added gently, "but you must try to understand."  

[Scaramouche Fandango]

He knew the stag was right. He'd known it all along, but that didn't stop him from feeling devoured by his misery. He was silent for a few moments as he stared at his hooves. Fatherhood was honestly something he'd never thought about growing up; now that it was happening, he didn't know what to do. He knew that parenthood was a burden, no matter how joyous it might be for some, and he hated feeling like he was afraid of the burden. Running away from his responsibilities wasn't a habit he wanted to fall into... but this, perhaps, was the noblest thing to do. "I'm not failing them, am I? I feel that by giving them up, I'm failing them. Like I didn't try hard enough."  

[theCorniest]

"No," the stag said softly, "you're not. Giving your children to another's care is the hardest thing that you could do. You'd be doing the very best you can to give them the best in life, and that is all that anyone could ever ask."  

[Scaramouche Fandango]

This hurt badly, as bad as any harm had ever hurt him. It was a raw, red thing; like a tear in the flesh, an angry, throbbing maroon tinged with the sickly, insidious green of bile. He wanted to retch, but it wouldn't do any good; this was a situation he could not fix. He would do what was right, and then- and only after then- could he begin to work on himself. So this was heartbreak. He understood something in the back of his mind, something about sacrifice and doing the right thing- no matter the cost. Crossed did not weep- later, perhaps, he might. When he was alone and silent with his thoughts. He would speak to Never about this later- not telling her all that transpired, but suggesting finding a better family for them. A whole family, one that wasn't so broken. She would probably feel relieved; or perhaps indifferent. Or maybe even heartbroken, just a little. But he knew she'd agree that there were better parents than them.

Which left him with his other question. "Thank you. It- you don't know what it means, hearing that. I know what I have to do, and- I can't not do it. They deserve only the best." And that's not me. It's not us. He left it unspoken; he didn't want to say the words out loud for fear of his emotions betraying him. "You've helped so much already," he murmured, the lump in his throat leaving his words ragged at the edges. "But could I perhaps ask for one more thing? Could you... bless them? I just want them to always feel loved and to know that they're wonderful."  

[theCorniest]

The hurt radiating off of this buck was a terrible, tangible thing. This was a horrible thing to have to tell a kin, and it must have been a much more horrible thing to hear. Breeze couldn't even begin to imagine - but he could offer his sympathy, offer his blessing, offer anything he could to help ease this pain.

"They will love and be loved," the stag intoned with soft solemnity. "They will live well and fully, and they will always have each other. With time, and with luck, they will understand," he added afterwards. "I hope they will. I hope you can find some solace in the thought."  

[Scaramouche Fandango]

The best for them. It was all he could hope for, all any father ever dreamed of. "Thank you," he said. "I think I can, eventually. It'll be hard, but this is the right thing to do." A pregnant pause shimmered in the air as he composed himself, drawing on some invisible thread of resolution so that he could at least leave with dignity before the inevitable collapse. "I- I hope you don't think it too rude of me, but I need to go now. I really need to be alone at the moment. Thank you for everything- I won't forget it. Not ever."