MEET ME WHERE THE FALLING STARS LIVE

Thana had known that her past would come back to bite her. She always had. It didn't matter that she hadn't wanted to do the things she'd done.

It didn't matter that saving him was the first and only choice she'd made in her god-forsaken life before she'd run away. It didn't matter how much she'd suffered in the aftermath, when her father only saw that she had failed once again.

Those she wronged didn't care about all that. And why would they? How many would never get a chance to care? She... couldn't even begin to come up with a number.

As she left, she couldn't make eye contact with Momo. She looked back at her, broken, but could not meet her eyes. She'd only wanted to protect her, to begin to right some of the uncountable wrongs she had committed. But it seemed she wouldn't get that chance. Not today. Maybe not ever.

She'd been foolish to hope that she had any chance at redemption. She was nothing more than the knife her father held. She couldn't possibly be more than that.

"I'm sorry," she offered softly, to everyone, to no one. To anyone who cared, if anyone did.

The skirted around @Elijah carefully, not daring to look at him. Once upon a time, she could have brushed off the judgement and hate in his eyes (could she have, really?), but she wasn't that lion anymore. Now, she stayed as far away from him as she physically could, head low and belly brushing the ground, a kicked puppy retreating.

She'd never be anything more than that, would she?

And she couldn't hold it against him. She'd thought he was dead, thought she had failed at the first choice she'd made.

She slunk out on @Sonnilion's heels, only sort of using her as a shield. Because if Eli wanted to hurt her, wanted to kill her, wanted to get revenge, by all means, she wouldn't stop him. Didn't she deserve it? But Momo, poor Momo didn't deserve to see that. Not in her den, not as she was trying to have her cubs. That could all come later.

-probably temporary exit

I WILL WAIT FOR YOU DAY AND NIGHT

code by corvus

A growl rises in his throat as Thana nears, edging around him to head for the exit. Still wary, still threatening -- even as she slinks low, apologetic. Maybe later he would be more open to hearing her sorry, but now is not that time. Still, The moment Gawain steps between them his shoulders slump with relief -- still furious and on edge, but no longer a dog snarling against its leash. He does not know, or trust, Sonni but he trusts Gawain with his life. He will keep them both outside; he will keep Momo and her Cubs safe.

That will be a good start.

Elijah's exhale is shaky and muted but he moves forward then as the others clear from the den, grabbing the parcel as he goes. His steps are slow, hesitant -- he has done this before, for mothers more frenzied than momo. He doesn't trust her not to maul him as he grows closer, staying alert and attentive, ready to dodge any swipes sent his way.

He does not speak as he approaches, quietly focused on dodging her wayward claws. He does not shush her, nor purr to soothe. No answer comes aside from his continued presence, though his ears twitch -- obviously listening, though its unclear how much he's processing. His movements are mechanical, born purely from instinct.

The blood worries him, as it always does, and he only glances at the children curled close to her breast. He gives himself away with this, though, because his attention lingers too long, eyes going too soft. There's three altogether, having missed the birth of the other two, and something in his chest tightens. They... were his? But that is a hard pill to swallow and he has bigger things to worry about.

Setting the parcel down he gets to work. Intent on stopping the bleeding and making sure nothing had went awry while they were all distracted. He has no herbs meant for a new mother ( as he did not believe Sonni when she'd told them, and had not been thinking straight as they'd left the den ), but still he slides her a few. Chew on these, please. He says, voice carefully quiet -- but not soft. Calm but unnervingly so, even as he keeps himself from looking at the children. Something for the pain and something to help with energy, to help her stay in the moment instead of crashing. Others will come later once these precious first minutes pass.

He ignores, too, the way his hands shake as he works -- visible tremors as the only real sounds are the children as they feed. His eyes are drawn to them and this time he cannot stop himself, not noting the easy way they latch and feed, or the way they're all perfectly sized. But instead noting their little faces, the delicate brushing of markings across them, their tousled little fur and the colors of them. They were healthy, yes, but they were also perfect. He swallows thickly as he finally, then, looks at Momo -- really looks at her, finally making eye contact.

His heart clenches -- and then breaks.

code; background; art;

mononoke yōsei lupai

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like fragile tiny shells, drifting in the foam
OOC; Skipping Gawain w Janie's permission!!

The quieter he is, the less... responsive, he is, the higher her anxiety spirals. Still, she does not say anything - does not ask anything of him. What right does she have? She pushed him into this, and then ran from him; she's horrible, and shame sticks her throat until she feels like she's choked. When he asks her to chew some of the herbs he's brought, she obeys in silence, her gaze averted from both him and the babes. She cannot bear to look at their precious faces, has already memorized them.

Memorialized them.

Still, as if she can feel him watching her, she finally looks back at him - pain and fear mixed up in her gaze, set into a face that she tries her best to keep impassive. Eventually, though, she cannot hold the eye contact any longer - averting her gaze again as a hot tear wells in her eye. Still, she says nothing; there is no excuse to make, no thing that she can say now to ease the heavy weight between them. He had said - he had said that he loved her, but she had not believed him. Had not believed he felt for her what she feels for him.

She still doesn't.

They've been dancing around each other for so long the words still feel like lies, as if he's simply saying it to ease her heartache; like he would never have said it at all had they not slept together. That's what really cuts - the thought that he had to say it after as some sort of... she doesn't even know. A way to feel better about what had happened? Oh, but now (and she very carefully and deliberately does not look at the babes nestled at her belly) they have yet another weight between them. Quietly, defeatedly, she rests her head back on her paws and releases a shuddering breath.

She's preparing to lose everything.

It's there, in the lines of her body; complete and utter defeat, devastation making ruin out of an angel. If she'd had true wings, they would have been crumpled (bleeding and broken) by her fall into this weighted pit of despair. She stares at the den wall, silent tears slipping into freefall so gently she does not even feel them. This quiet defeat is all she can manage; later, she might scream, she might rage, but right now? Right now, she can't even remember how to breathe, heart straining and stuttering beneath the crushing damage of her defeat.

@Elijah

code by corvus

Gawain followed Thana and @Sonnilion out, but not entirely. He couldn't leave, he couldn't leave @Elijah like this, couldn't leave @Mononoke like this. He made sure he kept his big body between Thana and Eli- he would take the brunt of their apparent rivalry. If blood were to be spilled tonight, it would be his and his only. But he really, really didn't think it would come to that. Not with the way Eli deflated the moment Thana was out of eyesight, not with the way Thana slunk away like a scared child. The stress was just far too much for both of them. Still, he cannot leave. He doesn't trust anyone enough tonight to leave them to their own minds, as hurt and frazzled as everyone is. He cannot blindly obey Sonni, even if he does trust respect her. So instead, he stands in the entrance of the den, ready to jump into action on either side. Because Momo and Eli are both hurt by each other's actions. Because he is hurt by Momo's actions. But it wasn't his hurt that mattered right now. That would come last, when everyone else was safe and okay. (Skip him as needed, but he has not officially exited)

code by irish

Blue meets pink and once where there was comfort, there is only pain. A fracture into their already fragile foundation, doubt and misery cropping up where is only supposed to be love and tenderness. They deserve that, even if they do not get it from each other. Not now, at least. Why did you leave? He asks, voice small. There is a gulf between them, an open and bleeding wound. He is a healer and prides himself on being able to patch up such things. But he does not know how to handle this. Their misunderstandings ( these miscommunications ) do nothing but hurt each other over and over again. It may be a familiar ache but it is not a good one. We -- I -- could have helped, we would of helped. I would do anything for you. he does not know how to make her see. Instead, she runs off to hide away with thana, of all people.

He does not expect her to know his history, not when he's only told part of it. Bits and pieces, to protect both of them from the scope of it. But... still. @Mononoke could not have picked a worse person to run away with. And it hurts. He swallows it down, trying not to blame her but there is still that ugly feeling roaring in his chest -- cornered and wanting to lash out.

What do you want of me, thisavrós? Of us? He asks, gaze drifting back to the children. His mouth opens as if to speak, but stops himself. Visibly pauses before continuing. Did she want to come back with them, to light stone? Or had she left for good? Because.... he looks back to her as he starts: If you leave again.... he says but trails off, voice breaking off as ears flatten. I won't let you back, I can't. I love you, Momo, but we cannot keep doing this. He is not strong enough for that -- and doubts she is, either. And now.... now there is more to consider than just them and their feelings. His muzzle drifts once more, drawn to the little bundles of fur -- a moth to a flame.

They... are mine? He asks, scared of this answer more than the rest. What if they weren't? But -- what if they were? There are three of them: one with a silvery hue, one darker, and another more along the lines of sonni. There are wings and spots and stripes between them, a perfect mix. But... he almost doesn't want to believe, one way or another. Will it make it harder, then, if momo truly leaves? The next time she steals away in the middle of the night, she take them with her? He wants to cry, he does; he wants all the answers, but knows he will get few in return. Tearing his gaze away he looks at her, ears tipped forward, heart on his sleeve.

He would try, if she wanted. He wasn't sure what number of chances they were on now, but his hand extends with another. And he prayed she would take it, would meet him halfway. Because if not... if they could never get over this ( or through it ), then maybe it would better if they stopped trying.

code; background; art;

mononoke yōsei lupai

---

like fragile tiny shells, drifting in the foam
I lost my first son, she tells him, her voice hollow and dead. If it... if it happened again, I didn't want you to have to go through it. That is true, even as it's not the entire reason she ran. I panicked, she adds finally, her voice still hollow. I didn't... realize I was pregnant. Not until Thana found me at the river and brought it up. And when I realized... she trails off, body shuddering violently. Bile touches the back of her throat, and it takes her a long moment to recover enough to speak, her voice laced with fear.

I... was terrified. Confused. Upset. It's not like this was planned - I mean, you only... we only did what we did because of my heat. There is pain there, an ache reverberating in the hollowness of her tone. It hurts her still, that it had only happened because of a biological imperative. I didn't know if you would be happy for it, or angry. I know you and Gawain are... again, she trails off, and finally she says, softly, I didn't want to be in the way. Another burden you have to bear. He calls her treasure, then, and she flinches as if he's struck her. She is no treasure.

She never was.

His question hurts, in a way she hadn't expected. I will not make demands on you, she tells him quietly, her voice still strange and hollow and not Momo-like at all - save for the ache in it. His next words are met with another silent tear drop, and she lifts her head to look at him, her gaze broken. I would not expect you to, she murmurs finally, and what little brightness had been left in her eye goes out like a snuffed candle. My... exit was never a permanent one, she adds softly, looking back at the den wall.

I meant, originally, to only take a weekend for myself. Just to think. But then... then she'd realized she was pregnant, and she'd panicked. She'd flown headlong, running because she'd been too frightened to risk staying. His next question is one that she's nearly offended by, but she keeps it out of her tone. What right does she have to be upset? About any of this? She's the one in the wrong here, not him. They are yours, she whispers finally, resting her head back on delicate, scarred paws - still refusing to look at their children again.

Still afraid that she'll blink and they'll be gone.

@Elijah

code by corvus

He asks the question but knows the answer. Expects it, hears it. He.... knows she is prone to panic, to spiralling before anyone can step in. She's done it before and only a few times has he caught her before it was too late. He knows this, and knows the whys, but it does not stop it from hurting. An ache in his chest that only grows, because everytime she leaves he knows the chances of her returning are lessening.

And knows, from past experience, that it's a valid fear.

He moves then, stepping around her to come to her front -- lowering himself to the ground in front of her. The den floor is cold beneath his chin but he ignores it, focusing on her. I'm sorry if I ever made you feel like you were something I had to suffer through. He murmurs, barbed words but baby-soft. He knows that pain, has been inflicted with it so often and so badly it took him too many months to put a name to the gnawing in his chest. I love you, he says, soft as anything, their noses only a few inches apart. He watches her, ears tipped backwards, trying not to sound as hurt as he does. I know you don't believe me, and that's -- fine. It's not, of course it's not, but he's lived with such hurts before. In the grand scheme of things, it seems such a small burden to bear.

But every time you leave, I'm afraid you've finally left for good. I'm afraid something will happen to you, that you'll be hurt and no one will know until it's too late. Or she might he pregnant, and unattended until she is actively giving birth. You know, the usual. I don't want to be afraid anymore, Momo. He adds, a soft afterthought. He deserved better than that -- and so did she. She says her exit was not meant to be permanent, and his ears tip.

The cubs were his, then. A small exhale pulls from his throat, glancing at them once more. It's clear he wants to inspect them closer but holds himself still, curled up in the den of the woman who'd nearly killed him, pulled from slumber only minutes earlier. Ours, then. He says after a long moment, a small correction. No matter what. Welcoming wisteria into his life had changed him, and he cannot imagine three infants. But they were here, and.... he did not want to be from them. Gods, he did not want to leave this den. How had his father ever looked at him, this small, and hated him? There is only love in his chest for them, new and perfect -- oblivious to the hurt they bring with them.

It isn't their fault.

It never was, and it never would be.

Do you -- he starts, then stops, fumbling the words. Do you want to come back home? With us? will you be coming home with me? there will always be room for you and for them, but... whatever is best for you. whatever momo wants, she will get. Elijah Hope's that includes him still but.... he does not get ahead of himself. He has made that mistake before, and it's done nothing but make him gun-shy. The others, he knows, will understand either way. Instead he watches and waits, a guilty man waiting for the hangman's judgement.

code; background; art;

mononoke yōsei lupai

---

like fragile tiny shells, drifting in the foam
It's not you, she whispers, reassuring him as he comes nose to nose with her. It's me. It's never anything he's done - it's her own wild insecurity, her own... brokenness. Her gnawing fear that if she can't contribute, she's somehow unworthy of... anything, even though she would never ever apply that to anyone else. I love you, he says, and for the first time, she addresses it with... confusion, instead of disbelief. Why? She asks it quietly, ears tipping forward hesitantly.

After everything... why? I - I pushed you into this. I keep making you worry, and I - she breaks off, features baffled and hurting. I'm not... worth it. This last is almost inaudible, but as close as he is, he probably hears it just fine. His list of fears is a valid one, and she offers up a broken laugh. I never meant... but I won't make excuses. She hadn't meant to hurt him, hadn't meant to make him afraid, but it doesn't matter what her intentions had been - only the results of her actions.

Ours, he says of their cubs, and she turns her head to look at them again. The anguish that ripples across her features is hard to watch - and so is the hollow blankness that follows it as she turns away from them once more. When he asks if she will come home, Momo releases a soft sigh. Yes, she murmurs, her gaze fixed on the den floor. My den won't be quite as... empty, now. She's been lonely, sleeping on her own; these past few days with Thana have been a welcome relief from her self-imposed isolation in Lightstone.

@Elijah's beloved face is brought back into view as she pries her gaze from the floor, and there is evident shame and pain in her gaze even as her expression retains that horrible blankness. A growing dread weighs down her abdomen, and soon she finds herself fighting the urge to throw up. She's so sick inside with anxiety that it's making her physically ill, and she swallows convulsively. Do you... happen to have anything for nausea? She asks quietly, not wanting to make any demands, but needing something to avoid having to go throw up outside.

It occurs to her that she'll have to introduce Frog to the new babies; the girl's presence is the only thing that keeps Momo's den from being a pit of gloom and doom lately. New, brighter anxiety surges - will Frog be upset? Will she be angry over the new siblings? The additional fears have her feeling even worse, and a sort of panic appears on her face as she desperately tries to combat the sickening churning in her stomach. If you don't have anything, I may need to step outside for a moment.

She's beginning to look a bit green around the edges.

code by corvus

You are not worthless, and you never have been. He says, wishing he had the words to explain. As for the why.... he did not know. He could not put it into words, no more than he could explain why the sun rose every day or set every night. Elijah might have been born to be a wordsmith but it'd been beaten out of him, a shame then that he does not have the words to put now. Never to me, He glances over his shoulder to where gawain stands, a physical obstacle in the mouth of the den. No one would be busting in on his watch, and it is a clear indication of his involvement. And never to us. There was always a place for her in his life -- unless she did not want to be.

You pushed me into nothing, he corrects softly. You never made me do anything I did not already dream of. Even when she left ( and she left often, more frequently than he liked ), he always missed her -- and those feelings did not fade. Even if he did not originally have the word to put to them, even if he was then too scared to say it. He stretches his muzzle out, his nose reaching out -- coming just shy of brushing against hers. He thinks better of it though, not wanting to push too far.

She comments on her den being lonely, and his ears tip. Hurt, still. It doesn't have to be, he comments, head tilting slightly. An offer, laid on the table with no pressure. Her den did not have to be only hers -- if she did not want it to. He's offered before, invited her before, but maybe this time it will take. Maybe this time she will realize she has a place in this family. Her question, then, puts a stop to this. I do, he says, getting up without a second thought -- padding back to his parcel and returning with the preferred roots. They're dried already, having been sprinkled with a softer herb -- the intention to make them easier to stomach.

He provides it to her with little extra prompting, watching her a moment. This will help, but if you have to get up -- and she still might, as the roots will take awhile to get into her system, -- just be careful, go slow. Better her get sick in here than move too much now. He stays standing, ready to help her walk -- if she needs. If she wants. His head tilts then: how are you feeling, besides nauseous? He knew the things that could help, that could supplement in the aftermath of birth, but ultimately she would need rest.... and, perhaps, no more big talks. There is shame, of course, that he caused her so much extra distress, but all he could do now is help.

code; background; art;

mononoke yōsei lupai

---

like fragile tiny shells, drifting in the foam
She is wary, and weary, and exhaustion pulls at her - but she does her best to pay attention. As he includes @Gawain in his sentiments, she rubs a scarred paw over her scarred face. She has very limited experience with polyamory; has always imagined herself in a monogamous relationship. She doesn't have anything against polyamory, she just doesn't quite understand how Gawain is okay with it.

After all, isn't she in the way? Don't @Elijah's feelings for her somehow... get between them? But then she thinks of Thana, of the softness that's developed between them in the last few days; of the budding emotion in Momo's heart for the other woman, and she understands. No, loving two people doesn't devalue anyone or anything - it adds more. With that sudden bout of clarity, a little flicker of light returns to her gaze.

I... admit that I believed only one of us could be with you, she says softly, her tone ashamed. She hadn't understood - hadn't realized. Her father had had litters with women outside of her mother, Nybras, but... Momo hadn't really known any of the other women, and doesn't think it was anything truly serious. Of course, Morana had been, but Momo hadn't ever been told that.

She'd only really seen him with Nybras, and they'd seemed wholly devoted to one another. She'd come to life long after Nybras had had another husband, so she isn't even aware of that. In light of that belief, and... how badly you reacted at first, to my feelings, I... chose to step aside. She'd seen him with Gawain and believed it would be best if she simply got over her feelings for him - believed him out of her reach forever.

Miscommunication will do that to you, she supposes. As he says her den doesn't have to be empty, she offers a lopsided smile that's more sad than happy. No, she murmurs, her moment of clarity bringing understanding even as it also brings shame and upset, It doesn't have to be. Her nausea is highly distracting, though, and she nearly weeps with relief when he says he has something to help.

As he provides her with aforementioned help, she immediately latches onto the herb and chews like her life depends on it, her stomach still roiling. He asks how she's feeling, aside from nauseous, and she answers after a moment of contemplation. Tired. Ashamed. Aching. She pauses, and then, in a softer voice, she confesses - Still terrified. And then she falls silent, chewing the roots he'd given.

code by corvus