Leila cannot settle, knowing where Dragos has gone and what might have befallen him. Those hours are arduous, heart-aching, her mind full to the brim of what ifs and fears of worst case scenarios. Even the children are quiet, though the tigress entertains and plays as best she can. It’s only that dusk when he still hasn’t returned does Leila’s fretting get her moving.

She tucks her babies away with clear instruction to ‘bee to not leave his sister’s side. And she takes out of the grove and into the badlands, following the hours-only scent trail she knew too well, and knew he had taken toward the bluffs.

It’s on these cooling sands she starts her search for @Dragos, leaving no stone unturned. Leila was an excellent tracker, and she was grimly determined to discover what had transpired at the Wolfron Challenge.

art by hush ✶ code by hinter

All he wants to do is stop, and rest, but Dragos knows he'll never get back up if he does. Being forced to walk away from the Bluffs was painful, walking away from his family, from his enemies, was something he never thought he would be able to do. He had managed to leave without limping, but once he got down the sheer cliffs his shoulder began to ache in a way he's never felt before, and the true damage of protecting his sister had become horrifyingly clear.

Somewhere deep in his shoulder, something is broken.

His leg refuses to hold his weight, and makes him stumble again and again each time he hobbles on it, gingerly balancing himself with that ruined paw. First his paw, now his leg. Bit by bit, they're tearing him to shreds. He didn't want to fight today. He didn't want to be there - he didn't want to attack, to taste blood. He had been forced.

This would never end, would it? War followed no matter how far they ran. How could he spare his children his fate? Was it even possible?

He catches her scent on the soft breeze. Leila. Instead of relief, Dragos frets. Why is she out here? He chuffs for her, in his worry forgetting to slow down, stumbling forward until her familiar, striped form comes into view over a dune. Still too far away for his liking.

"What are you doing out here?" He calls, ears folding back into his blood spattered mane. What if he was followed? He can't protect her. Not like this.

✶code by hinter

As she clears the dune the wind brings a scent - one she recognises immediately and is crystal clear not only because of its familiarity, but because because it speaks of wounds.

Leila’s throat tightens as she scans the badlands with a furrowed brow, and spies the strawberry and pale form of her beloved quickly, just as a call toward her rises. Her tail banners in relieved greeting, but then Leila sees how he staggers, stumbles - it is not the same brave, powerful stride he had left with.

“Dragos-!” the tigress cries out and bounds to close the distance, sand flying behind her paws. His fur is smeared in blood and he was clearly wounded. Leila scatters sand as she halts, nostrils flaring as she takes in his condition. She doesn’t hesitate to tuck herself to his less-hurt side to help him take some of the burden off his obviously injured leg. Leila knew very well how to pick out such a weakness.

“I came to look for you.” Leila tells him with concerned brown eyes, pressing a worried kiss to his closest cheek. And good thing she had; “You look like hell.”

@Dragos

art by hush ✶ code by hinter

As worried as he is, Leila's comforting scent and touch does soothe his aches. He leans against her tiny frame, wanting to pull her against him but he can't - his good leg is holding him up, and the other one would kill him to move that much.

"It's not safe," he chides, but there's no bite, no energy, in his words. Dragos sighs. He can't fault her - as if he wouldn't do the same, or worse.

The Savante's body shivers as he forces himself to stand still, allowing himself just a moment to accept the pain of his injuries. "It was Apollinaire. He attacked my sister. I defended her."

And he has paid the price.

"My uncle challenged for the Bluffs." He explains, needing her to know everything. "My father tried to fix things, that's why he was there. I couldn't just leave him - it wasn't our doing, we didn't want Anthonious to do this - but the Dieudonne didn't care." They didn't listen, even when Alexander disowned Anthonious for his actions, for refusing to back down to save them all. His greed won.

And now...

"Leila, they want us dead."

✶code by hinter

"Of course it isn't." Leila agrees gently, turning her head to clean a cut upon his shoulder with a soothing rasp of her tongue. It never was. It hadn't been for months, and although she is free and happy with their little family, such is the cost of rogue life. Now, Leila is a taught wire, her eyes darting. She breaks from her fussing to scan the horizon with sharp eyes, and finds it still thankfully empty of distant figures.

The mention of Apollinaire makes her fall silent, listening to his recount even before she can ask what happened; he knows her well enough to predict it on her lips. It had been because his Uncle had challenged, because Dragos's Father had tried to resolve it and failed. Because the Dieudonne hadn't listened. Her heart sinks.

The tigress's eyes can't help but prick immediately with hot, angry tears. She is furious; not at Dragos but for him. "Damn it.
" she sucks in a breath. How could Louve - who had promised Leila that Dragos would not be hurt - allow her husband to do this? She knew well the structure of the Bluffs and how clearly their women commanded the men of the Dieudonne. So why?

Leila was able to weather much, could suffer many hurts and many heartbreaks with a bowed head, a silent acceptance. But those lingering guilty feelings broke to a sense of indigance, betrayal. It is sudden and white-hot and she trembles as her toes dig into the sand. This was injust. Dragos had done nothing but protect his loved ones, and again and again he suffered for it.

"We need to get back to the grove." she utters, a frightening calm spreading through her. "I hid Ducky and 'Bee, but we need to move them again." her ears flatten. "I won't let anyone hurt our cubs, Dragos."

art by hush ✶ code by hinter

"Yeah," he murmurs, sort of just at everything. Dragos staggers forward, unwilling to use Leila while he walks as a crutch. He's too big - hurting her is a bigger concern than the condition of his leg.

"We need - we need a pride. Somewhere that will protect them." And Leila, but Dragos doesn't voice that. If anything happens to him, he needs to know his family is safe. And then, quietly, "I want them to know my family."

All of this had been to protect them, to keep them away from the tension and war, but it isn't going to last anymore.

His gait is slow and pained, and every half step shoots pain through his shoulder and down his spine. He wants to scream, and bites his tongue to keep the sound back.

He snorts, suddenly. "Your friend - Louve. She said you lied about what her mother told you, by the way." Maybe it had been a mistake to call Amara out, but she'd tried shaming him in front of everyone for not joining the Bluffs.

Fuck that.

✶code by hinter

The wind blows sand around their ankles and she can see, feel how Dragos hobbles. There is seriously something wrong with his leg, but Leila is far from a healer of any kind and she doesn't even know where to begin to soothe his pain. Would it heal? His paw had, but this seemed- worse.

"We do." Leila bites her lip as she troubles over it. There were options out there, but they weren't the most inconspicous of families. Tigers were uncommon; ligers even more so. All it would take was one blabbermouth...

"It needs to be somewhere we can trust to keep their jaws shut." the tigress murmurs as she struggles it over in her mind. She has so few connections now herself. The mention of the Savante turn her focus, and Leila slowly nods. It didn't seem as daunting as it had at the Andal challenge. The evidence had been there, and she knows it is not right to keep their children from blood. "They will." she assures him, though at this very moment she can't even start to think of that. Getting Dragos somewhere safe was her priority.

Leila pushes a striped shoulder into him, suspecting how delicate he was being and trying to insist with her help. She sees the agony in her beloved's gait and it twists her heart in angry, empathetic knots. The tigress knew she wouldn't be able to carry him should his leg give out entirely, and even if she wouldn't be able to support some of his weight for a extended time, it would get them further than if he collapsed on the sand.

At the mention of Louve, her ears twist out to the side as fresh sadness and torment clutch her. She cared about Louve, trusted her. To hurt the woman so had wounded Leila's heart and even now the memory of the dark lioness's distress bruised the emotional blows of leaving Wolfborn afresh.

"Oh." is all Leila says, not wanting to believe it. From anyone other than Dragos she wouldn't. It pained her. "I don't know why she would- she was... she was there." Leila sniffs and blinks fiercely. "Tell me about it later, okay?" In the meantime- "What- What are we going to tell the kids?"

art by hush ✶ code by hinter

They will.

Dragos clings to that promise, some part of his mind already planning for the worst, that he might not survive long enough to watch his children meet the rest of the Savante.

... If war breaks out, he won't survive it. He'll die protecting his family, like he nearly did today and the year before this.

Leila, naturally, can see his pain. He can't hide it from her, but he isn't really trying - it's too much effort just to hobble beside her, let alone keep his expression from twisting. She butts against him, silently insisting on allowing her to help. He grunts, annoyed but not strong enough to fight the tiger off; Dragos leans against her, fretting that his weight will hurt, but the way it eases some of the stabbing pain is enough to make him groan.

It almost hurts more to see Leila's face contort when he brings up her friend. He says nothing, falling silent and sad. He doesn't want to hurt her with this knowledge - but keeping her ignorant is just as unfair. Pretending it never happened isn't an option.

But he can spare her for now.

"Obsidian would protect them... But we can't send them away." Dragos cannot separate himself from Leila any easier than he could chew off his own leg, and the cubs are just as important. He would never ask that of her either. "The Oasis is allied with Wolfbron. The heat also fucking sucks for my mane." He tries for a grin, tries to lighten the mood just a little.

✶code by hinter

Finally, he accepts her help and Leila braces herself against it. It was difficult, but not out of the realms of her ability like she had feared. It is leagues better than dragging him. She rumbles a reassuring noise, wanting to stave off any concern. Though the going is slow, it is better than watching him limp over the sand. She hated seeing him in pain.

The hurts of the heart are tucked away quickly. She doesn't want to open pandora's box of woes when Dragos needs her right here, right now. For a few minutes she lapses into silence, focusing on his breathing, taking the steps slow. Leila can see the distant treetops she knows they need to get to as they rise another dune. The descent will be tricky, as she doesn't want to tip him over and potentially hurt himself worse. "Careful here, love." she utters.

The talk of prides is something she mulls over as she picks her way down by his side. Obsidian was becoming more of an option; but it would be her own last. If it came to it, and there was no other choice she had faith they would be safe there. But equally, Leila could not bear to be parted from their children. Surely, there had be another way.

Dragos humour does bring a small smile to her lips, but it fades quickly to concentration. "We spoke of Lorien, before the challenge. Would they shelter us?" she says after a thoughtful pause. Her brow was pinched in deep contemplation. "If I offer my hunting skills...?" All prides benefitted from a talented hunter, of that Leila was certain. "And you need a healer." her tone suggested she would not take any protest.

art by hush ✶ code by hinter

The trek is slow, but it is progress. Leila bears his weight without complaint, offering him reassuring noises. Even after everything, after all they've been through together, she still makes his heart flutter and skip with that one affectionate word. Love. Why can't it always just be this simple?

He steps carefully, slowly, at Leila's side. "Lorien might work. If nothing else, they'll protect the kids." But Violarum had said not to bring trouble down on the pride. Would he listen if Dragos tried to explain what happened? Would he care? Leila is a valuable asset, so they might keep her too. She's innocent in all this, just like Bee and Ducky.

Maybe Lorien would just take them...

"There's... There's one other thing I could do." He says it quietly, and his stomach fills with dread as he speaks. "If I take a pride, an empty one or challenge - I could keep us safe."

✶code by hinter