caydin stomps through vermeda brook without a care, lips twisted in something of a scowl as he finds himself in the presence of the weirdest looking thing he's ever seen. a great, big orange ball surrounded by a mass of green vines that tumble all over the floor. it seems it has a couple smaller friends alongside it too - which caydin naturally takes as a personal offense.

he marches right up to the weird looking plant, eyes squinted as he stares it down. gingerly, a paw reaches out to jab at it, even more confused when it doesn't sink easily into its flesh. "what the fuck is this thing?" caydin snorts, preparing to go in for another exploratory jab.

There was not a single heartbeat when Miaran didn't cross paths with another young cub, their many bodies swirling like leaves in a vibrant autumn breeze. This pride pulsated with life, brimming with the energy of youth. Her heart quickened as she caught the soft murmur of a voices, compelling her to seek out the source. Not far from her, she spotted a young cub, innocently prodding at a pumpkin, and she couldn't help but raise an eyebrow above her solitary eye, a sparkle of amusement dawning within her.

Garçon, allow me to take a wild guess. Cassius? The unmistakable crescent of the moon etched on his forehead revealed his identity, the very emblem of the Patriarch of her newfound family through her husband. Yet, beneath the surface of her sly and crooked smile, a river of disdain flowed, a lack of respect for the lion who was supposed to inspire unity in the family. She lingered just at the edge, neither a threat nor a friend—close enough to pounce if needed, yet yearning to understand the wild spirit of this complex familial bond.

@Caydin

table code by daanyen

caydin is so engrossed in the weird thing he's stumbled upon that he doesn't notice the woman walking towards him. dual-toned eyes flash when @Miaran speaks, focusing on where her voice has just come from. "no." he answers, lips twisting into an expression of displeasure. "caydin." the boy corrects, like it should be obvious - and shouldn't it? he looks nothing like cassius, based off of height alone. "you blind or something?" the boy asks, snickering to himself.

if she was missing one eye, maybe the other one wasn't working so great either. as such a young child, perhaps he should have been more fearful of the consequences that came with speaking so disrespectfully to someone who was so much older and stronger than him. unfortunately, such feelings had never taken root within the boy. "what is this thing?" caydin repeats the question, slapping a paw down on top of the orange thing next to him.

Miaran shook her head slowly, a flicker of disdain momentarily clouding her features. It’s your père, not your name, she said, her voice heavy with the exaggeration. There was a brief pause, a silence that hung in the air, before she added, The moon etched upon your forehead tells the tale of your father, @Caydin.

Cassius, with his relentless pursuit of fleeting pleasures, was proving to be just another careless man, uninterested in nurturing or supporting. The Deputies, the devoted husbands and fathers woven into the fabric of the Mob, stood as guardians, pouring their hearts and souls into raising the children born into their world. They dedicated themselves to mentoring those worthy of their legacy, a legacy that thrived only among those strong enough to endure.

Miaran felt the primal urge to lash out, her claws yearning to strike, but she held herself back, wrestling with the storm brewing inside her. As he pressed her about the pumpkin, she shifted her position, allowing herself a moment to breathe, It is a gourde. Treats or tricks swirled around her mind, memories of the shiny treasure Lyla said she had found, and the image of the deflating pumpkin filled with fog lingered like ghosts from a forgotten tale.

table code by daanyen

she says things a little weird and at first caydin's brows only furrow together. having only heard the common tongue up until now, @Miaran and her new language are perplexing. "what's a pear?" to his credit, he tries to repeat after her - père - but to an untrained mouth, the syllables don't quite make sense. at four months old, critical thinking is also not his forté yet. thankfully, it seems that she's going to clarify anyway, so caydin isn't left confused for very long.

"yeah?" caydin questions. the tale of his father - well, it was a good thing cassius had given all five of his boys a sit down talk. "my dad says it's a cool marking, i guess." he starts, chest puffed up. of course it's cool, all five of his brothers have one too. caydin, mercifully, fails to mention which dad had said so. "why would it tell the story of my dad though? it's just a moon." he asks, brows raised as he stares miaran down.

a gourd. with that, his dual-toned eyes turn back towards the gourd with interest. "well, can you eat it?" if not, what use was it to him? a paw lashes out again, thumping against the pumpkin and finally producing a satisfying crack.

double, double toil and trouble;
fire burn, and cauldron bubble...

Nafasi watches from the bushes, never once letting herself be seen by those huddled around her perfectly-placed pumpkins. They really were a curious bunch, weren't they? But, unfortunately for them, the sprite was feeling extra mischievous today, and had a trick up her sleeve! And so, with a small grin, the being tilted her maw down towards the earth, eyes glowing, before she gave a pointed flicker of her tail and brought her vision to life in the process.

Uh oh...

Abruptly, and right before your very eyes, the pumpkin becomes encapsulated in a thin layer of ice, frost coating it's edges and the sky darkening up above. You know that it wasn't that cold out but, at the same time, the winds start to pick up, howling and raging as they came, and snow begins to fall from the sky. But not just any time of snow - it's the type that hurts, the snowfall growing thicker and thicker until you can hardly see so far as a foot in front of you. By the time you know what's happening, the blizzard has completely consumed the world around you - it's probably best you find somewhere warm to wait this out, unless you want to freeze over too!

TRIGGER WARNING!
This content might touch on topics that are sensitive or triggering for some readers. Trigger Warning for mentions of [displeasure of children, threat, mention of previous children passing, thoughts of violence]


Miaran shook her head slowly, correcting the boy with palpable intensity in her voice. Non, Père is pronounced like that. She accentuated each syllable, as if each word were a treasure to be shared, before continuing, It means Father in my native tongue. At this age, there was already an immense gulf between them. When she was the bare of four months old, she had begun to learn to defend herself, to master the art of wounding, to hide and to manipulate the poisons hidden under the guise of medicinal herbs.

An eyebrow rose imperceptibly above the still-intact eye as she reacted to the boy's words about the moon. Your grand-père doesn't have a moon on his head. The moon only connects you to Cassius, she paused, a determined gleam in her eyes. My Mari is closer by blood to the original Patriarch of the family, his son. Cassius is more distant, my children will carry a stronger blood bond with Renozuri. If I decide to keep them alive, she added with a thinly veiled threat. If they were ever born defective, as she imagined Renozuri to be, an echo of nothingness, she would never raise them. She would give them up as quickly as she had given up her previous children, for there was no maternal instinct in her veins, none of it could touch her, not even her own flesh.

When the boy turned away to the pumpkin, she burst out laughing at his innocent question about eating it, before shaking her head slightly. You're not a zebra, a hippo or a rhinoceros. I wouldn't eat that, she asserted without any emotion, watching the boy hit the pumpkin, causing a crack. At first, this didn't affect her, until a sudden storm arose. The biting cold of high winds and heavy snowflakes enveloped them.

If this boy had been a simple, unimportant cub, she'd have let him freeze. But @Caydin was no ordinary cub, he was the son of the current Patriarch. With palpable reluctance, she bent down to grab him by the scruff of the neck, running for cover from the storm. The snow pursued them, relentless, until she found a deep, empty cavern to slip into. Darkness greeted them, but there was a comforting warmth, a protection against the raging whirlwind of cold. She let go with a thud before settling into a slightly curled position. Perhaps you shouldn't touch any random plants, oui? We must wait for this storm to pass.

table code by daanyen