A storm had swept into the Cove early that evening. Kvare was far from his den, in the far-flung corners of Caladan's territory often left unguarded, unmanned. Though few had threatened their borders, Kvare always knew better than to let a single sliver of ease slip through their defenses, and though the storm's approach had been warned in the sky for hours, he ventured to that distant reach regardless. Here, the sea was chaotic; the cliffside that bordered their shore met the sea with little resistance, swallowing the beach, leaving no more than craggy, rocky paths to navigate. It were near impossible for a single lion to traverse through here, let alone enough for a proper ambush; and yet, the sea had swallowed his scent from this place, and there was little indication where the wilds ended and his territory began.

He pressed himself against the cliff face, leaving his scent to mingle alongside that of the salt and sea. His paws were steadily braced upon the rocks, but they were wet, and cold, and he could feel his fingers growing numb, his claws slipping freely against its surface. One wrong step would send him careening into the sea, and so he moves with cunning and carefulness, his tail lashing out to keep him balanced. He was battered by rain and howling wind, his mane falling just above his eyes, shrouding his face in a damp halo.

Art by Rabbit, table by cala

One would think given her most recent physical condition that she should not be out in a thunderstorm but the wind and rain called to her. She had left her den early on, before the storm had even begun, but by the time nightfall had cascaded around her the rain was coming down in a torrential downpour. Her fur was waterlogged and with each careful step she took she could feel the silent wheeze in her lungs. This path was one not taken very often. No one hardly ever came out this far on the Cove's borders. Originally Sunder had just gone for a small trek earlier on, but eventually her paws had continued to lead her further and further. The rain splattered against her face, her floppy ears plastered to her temples as she ducked her head downward and continued the trek back home. With a flash of lightning in the sky a figure is illuminated to her. Sunder jumps, despite herself, her steps halting altogether. Her icy gaze is pinned on the feet of her newfound companion, only to recognize the calloused soles. Her gaze would travel upward to eventually land upon her husband's face. And briefly, a flutter courses through her abdomen at the sight of @Kvare sodden and disheveled. She is flat up against the cliffside herself, her smaller stature making it much easier for her to take this path despite the danger that waited below. Her words are caught in her throat, for this was the first time she'd laid eyes on him since the accident. Her bottom lip quivers ever so slightly, "Kvare." She says softly, the roar of wind and rain practically drowning her words out. "What - what are you doing out here?" She says to him, ignoring the way her words rasp from her throat. Her voice was still quite hoarse and likely would be for awhile, but she cannot ignore the way her heart beats faster just at the sight of him. She longs to place herself against him, but she knew the danger beneath them and wouldn't allow either herself or her husband to take a misstep. So, for now, she stood rooted against the battering rain, waiting.

art by hush

He'd been there, but she'd not been conscious. @Sunder had been thrown between half-dead and half-alive more times than he could count, and there were nights he wondered if perhaps it would be the last. He'd felt the whole furl of emotions: Anger, guilt, shame, grief, acceptance. He'd held the fractured parts of the pride together in the wake of her absence but had felt the immeasurable weight that came with it, the wedge that sought them separated by duty and honor when all he wanted to do was remain by her side, pressing his face into her neck, and hope the entire world disappeared around them.

But the rest of the pride depended on him, and Kvare could not let himself slip away.

He swears he hears her voice above the whirring of rain, and slowly, carefully, does he turn to face her. She is strewn by the storm, soaking, gaunt, tired. His brows furrow as he immediately slips down from the rockface he'd perched himself on, nearly losing his footing along the way, before he finally slinks down to her. His mane is drenched, falling slick down either side of his face, with his bangs falling just above his eyes. His fiery gaze is wrought with concern, fear, an emotion he seldom let slip free of the far-flung reaches of his mind.

Marking the borders, he rumbles quietly, before reaching forward, attempting to gently bump his head along her jaw—careful not to hurt whatever sore or broken part of her remained after her accident. We should get you warmer, lest you catch a cold. There's a den nearby.

Art by Rabbit, table by cala

"Marking the borders." @Kvare's deep voice rumbles despite the roar of the rain around them and Sunder offers a warm smile towards him, "Always the vigilant King." She would say softly before her flopped ears would preen forward lightly, her heart continuing to race despite herself. "We should get you warmer, lest you catch a cold. There's a den nearby." She shakes her head, chuckling lightly to herself. "We should be more concerned about you catching a cold, who would mark these borders out here?" She muses, leaning against his touch though even she could feel his hesitation. She hated how fragile she must feel to him now, but that would have to be addressed eventually. Instead she would slowly back up, providing the room for him to move forward and off the cliff to the safety of solid ground. She watches and waits for him before she begins the trek towards the den. This den was much smaller than theirs and didn't have plush furs lining the floor, admittedly it was cold but it wasn't as bad as being in the bite of the rain. She shakes out her coat before finally turning to lock gazes with him. "I.. well.. I wanted to apologize. For everything." She starts off, glancing down at her husband's paws. "I don't know what was wrong with me.. I just felt.. useless. Unwanted. I know that is so foolish of me but.. I saw Yuna wearing my crown and imagined how easy it might be for her to take everything else from me. To take you even." Her cheeks burned in a warm blush of embarrassment at her admission but it was true. She had her insecurities, things that she was coming to understand and work through. But the last thing she wanted was for her to be another burden for Kvare to carry. "I'm sorry." It's only as she raises her gaze to rest on his face that she realizes she is trembling slightly before him. Both from the cold and anxiety perhaps, but she was his and he had seen every side of her. She just waited to hear his voice, pining for it over the loud beating of her heart in her ears from the adrenaline.

art by hush

Always the vigilant King, she says, and Kvare lets a small smile flit to his lips.

There was a semblance of truth in her words, a knowing that he'd perhaps come out here for far more than simply marking the borders. The roar of the rain and wind and sea had always been a source of comfort and awe, a knowing that he were not the most powerful thing in the Cove, that he would never ascend so far as to be capable of bending nature to his will. It took, and took, and took—and the cruel reality of his mortality was grounding, in a way.

He'd never felt more mortal than when he'd nearly lost her. He'd never felt less like a God and more like a man.

She retreats, and though at first he is half-tempted to protest, he quickly noticed that it were to simply give him room. He accepts it gratefully, shimmying himself off the cliffside and onto more even ground. Instead of slick rockface, his paws met the firm, wet sand; his legs no longer strained to keep himself balanced, his jaws and shoulders relaxing where once they'd been tense, nervous.

They make their way to the den in easy silence. They'd been around each other long enough that her mere presence was enough.

As they ventured into the den, Kvare sought to settle down beside her, carefully preening away clumps of furled fur where it had been slickened down by the rain. His tongue briefly flitted over her curled ears, delighting in the way they differed from so many others—something that had always been uniquely hers. He listened to her in silence, his gentle groomings slowing with each stressed syllable.

Eventually, he stopped. His lips pressed into a firm, thin line.

You've no need to apologize, he eventually rumbled, attempting to press the top of his head into the crook of her neck, I should have consulted you first, made you aware of my intentions.

Kvare had always been a man of act first, questions later. It had bitten him in the ass more times than he cared to admit. And now, it has hurt @Sunder. Again.

When Yuna first joined she made it clear to me she'd every intention of having her own pride someday, came his drawl, heavy, honest, She wanted to learn to be a Queen while she was here. In return, she would offer an alliance to us whenever she secured a pride of her own. But your place is not hers—you are the mother of dragons, and that is something she cannot take away.

Not that she would, he wanted to stress. Yuna's disposition to him had become warmer over time, but the walls she'd built were made of stone and ice; Kvare had no hope of tearing them down even if he wanted to. But the words fell silent, hoping that his reassurance would be enough.

I'm sorry, too.

Art by Rabbit, table by cala