strength finds its way to nymeria today, plucking her from the shadowy confines of her den in the early hours of the winter morning. the air was crisp, pricking diligently at her flesh and stinging against the jagged assortment of cuts and wounded that remained splayed across her figure. she supposed they would heal, with time — but the damage that the situation had done to her, more deeply, would never go away. optimism had met its match — and, worse yet, faith had met its match — and nymeria feared for her own condemnation in the light of how callously their god had seemingly abandoned them. surely they could not have wronged maua so deeply; though, if anything was certain now, it was that nymeria was not certain about anything.

teeth gritted as the valour shifted slowly down the expanse of the shoreline, each movement prompting the creak and aching of her bones. but she continued on all-the-while, appearing as nothing more than a solemn, wheat spectre against the backdrop of dunes and sea. she could not help, however, but to find that the sand felt odd between her toes. foreign. cold. unfamiliar. it held different meaning now, compared to all those other times before — for this was her home, at least during of her recovery, despite how longingly her heart ached for the quiet lull of the forest.

@Arkyn

A lot has happened, or so that was what Arkyn had gathered. Even though he didn't know what had happened, the sudden influx of lions and cubs had caught his attention. It made him curious and also a bit peeved; who were they all? And why were they crowding up his home? He was keeping a watchful eye on the strangers, mostly watching from the distance or behind a cluster of rocks or palm trees. But today, as he padded along the shoreline and felt the chilly air wrap around him, soft yellow eyes would spot one unfamiliar figure ahead of him. Growing paws would quicken into a loping gait, his tail holding itself straight in the air. The fur would bristle around it as well as between his shoulder blades, ears pricking forward and whiskers quivering. "Hey!" The boy would call out to the woman, brows knitting together. @Nymeria

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she continued onwards, stoic yet determined, as she meandered down the golden coastline sprawled out before her. she could not help but to feel somewhat nostalgic wandering the sands now, remembering the days spent here with gareth during their courtship, and the easier days of seasons past. it was only when the sound of approaching footfalls -- accompanied by a loud and ringing 'hey' -- that she found herself escaping the reverie, wide eyes blinking, as she craned her head back across her shoulder to investigate the source.

and it was there that she would spot the shape of @Arkyn lopping across the sands in her direction. and though he was still young, there was no missing the dutiful furrow of his brows, nor the bristling of his bright, sun-kissed fur -- in hindsight, his lineage would be so blatantly obvious to the valour woman, so much so that she would regret not realizing it all sooner. "well, hello there," nymeria tried at first, coming to a halt as she turned her frame to face the boy, doing her best to keep a warm expression perched upon her features. "who might you be?" she knew the children of her direct family like the back of her own paw, after all, head craning downwards so that she could better look upon his approaching figure. purposefully, she would keep her posture calm and unassuming, especially given the fact that she was a guest here, out of the cove's own hospitality.

He’d watch her with a close eye, as if she were going to try to do something sketchy and Arkyn would have to retaliate in some manner. Perhaps it was the lack of parental guidance he’d been receiving (or rather not listening to the reprimands his mother or anyone else attempted on him) but he always felt as if he needed to be in the know and know everything that was going on within the pride he was living in. So when she halted and replied to him would his bobbed tail vibrate, his shoulders pushing themselves up and forward as he puffed out his chest, the young Viking trying to appear bigger than what his preadolescent self looked like. “I’m Arkyn Brynmawr. Who are you?” His reciprocation to being asked who he was was spoken in a bit of a brash manner, head cocking to the side as he stared directly at the woman’s face. @Nymeria

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as she turned, the woman made note to slowly lower herself towards the sands, ears tilted forward to catch @Arkyn's words as they tumbled quickly from his lips. he was strong, that much was clear -- as was the scrutiny swimming within the gaze, and the instinctive way in which he puffed and huffed at nymeria's presence. she withheld the urge to grin, finding the display rather endearing as her stomach scraped against the earth, but she was quickly and abruptly caught off guard by his introduction, and the name that fell into the air next. because oh, she knew it all too well.

"arkyn," she breathed softly, more to herself than the cub, whilst her lashes gave a quick flutter. because it was only then that all of the pieces fell together so seamlessly, the image of valhalla looming somewhere against the backdrop of the sands, almost as if he were watching them from somewhere in the beyond. his son, right there, before the woman now. she gained her voice again, finally, struggling to put the joy and eagerness with her chest into words as she titled her head ever-so respectfully towards the young prince in her company. "it is an honor to meet you, arkyn brynmawr. my name is nymeria valour - and i was actually very close with your father, and know your mother's side of the family rather well." she hoped that the explanation would soothe the bold and protective demeanor that seethed from him now -- though, knowing the lineage from which he came, the druid would be lucky if her efforts proved to be fruitful at all. nonetheless, their is abundant love within her chest at the sight of him, her body screaming instinctively for her to swallow the space between them and rejoice in his miraculous, sweet existence. and yet, nymeria knew that she was but a stranger to the viking youth, no matter how much she adored him simply for living and breathing. and so instead, she would would simply wait, breath hitched within her throat as she kept her eyes trained purposefully, and warmly, upon his golden features. i'm sorry, valhalla, that it took me this long to find him.

He found it a little strange at how she reacted to him introducing himself and he wondered if something was wrong with her. Before he could ask the rather rude question, though, would the lioness continue on, mentioning her name and that she knew of his father. This would cause for his eyes to widen slightly and for his ears to pin backward slightly, his brows knitting together as he stood there in momentary silence. It wasn't often that Arkyn talked about his father, mostly because he couldn't get over the fact that he were dead and only allowed to go around a few parts of Amaryllis he wasn't allowed to go visit on his own yet. And maybe that was why he held so much angst about anytime anyone would bring him up: because they were able to get to know Valhalla and be able to really know him, something Arkyn would never get to do, not fully. Sure, he was able to visit him once he were old enough, but being able to visit a spirit and not an actual physical being was... heartbreaking. His appearance would become steeled once more, his gaze shifting and narrowing again on @Nymeria. He didn't want to let on that he was sad so instead he would turn to being his usual self. "Well aren't you lucky," he would mutter, a front paw scuffing at the sand below it a few times. "I don't ever get to see my dad and my my mom's been in her den so much that I feel like I don't even have a mom, either..." Was this what it felt like to be alone?

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nymeria watched him on a sort of baited breath, her attention honed in upon the small brynmawr's frame, gaging his reaction with a cool and levelled gaze. she was not surprised by the twist and furrow of his features, nor the instinctive way in which she saw him shut down anew. after all, if @Arkyn was anything like his father, he would certainly be stubborn. "on the contrary - you're luck to have a father like him, and one who loves you dearly." she corrected him gently, for she did not wish for their to be an inherent sense of jealousy between them. she, of course, did not envy arkyn for the trials and tribulations that he faced, and she could only imagine the weight of disappointment that hung upon the poor boy's shoulders as a result. he had a father, but not in the way that he wanted to -- and who was nymeria to try and repair such a hole? she was just a woman, but she was a woman who cared deeply and with fortitude, and who had made a promise to herself to look after valhalla's children with every ounce of her being. and so, she would continue to do just that.

in a desire to try and to get to know arkyn further, the woman would try a different approach to see if she could get him to open up, even if only a little bit. and so, it was intuitively that nymeria would allow her posture to relax, suppressing the idle thrumming within her chest, if only for the cub's sake. "what has your mother told you about him?" she inquired next, pale paws looking to knead the sand before her sprawled frame, similar to what he had been doing only a few moments prior, though her gaze remained settled upon him.

A scoff would be a part of his reaction to @Nymeria's reply. With not being able to see his father whenever he wanted. For the time being, anyways. Once he was old enough to travel to the Peaks location by himself he knew he would be making frequent visits to see Valhalla, but he still wasn't sure how to process the angst and anger and grief he felt for not ever being able to meet his sire in the physical sense. "Not much," he would begin in a grumble, finally allowing for his haunches to recline to let him sit. His shoulders would push back slightly and his eyes would shift between the woman's face to out to the ocean next to them. "Just little things like how he was and how he... died." The word 'died' would be forced out, his throat feeling instantly dry and as if it were closing on itself. It was definitely something that was a touchy subject for the young Viking.

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after the initial shock of today's discovery had worn off, nymeria found herself slowly reeling back on her grandiose emotions, forcing her posture to relax and her eyes to soften distinctly around the edges. she could only imagine, after all, how this must seem from @Arkyn's perspective -- confusing and annoying were perhaps two of the first possibilities that came to mind, and, based on his initial reaction, were perhaps not too far off from reality. but it was his expressions that garnered the druid's attention the most, her gaze settled evenly upon his frame as he reclined and shifted in his spot, caught somewhere between stubbornness and uncertainty. "do you -- want to talk about him?" she inquired, tones softening around the edges as her brows gave a soft, though innocent, furrow. she could see the confliction riddled across the boy's features, and the jagged way in which his words found themselves upon the air between them. the last thing that nymeria wanted to do was smother him, to overwhelm him, but she also could not help but want to be there and offer assistance where she could. a place to ask questions or inquire where he otherwise might not be able to.

and yet, at the end of the day, it was arkyn's choice, and the valour woman knew that it would be harmful to press on topics that he was not willing, or not able, to divulge in just yet. dropping her gaze for a moment, her posture lax all the while, she would speak only once more, offering what she could, and leaving the decision up the cub as to what he would want from her. "i've promised that i would look after you and your siblings, but only if you want me to." a half true statement, she supposed -- for if arkyn chose to shoo her away in this moment, nymeria would still be there, watching from afar and acting as the quiet and yet ever-watching protector on behalf of the fallen viking. now that she had finally found him, that is.

He was ready to turn down her offer to talk about his father with him in an explosion of rage, ready to shut her out as well as his emotions. Arkyn wasn't in the mood to find himself wallowing in his own angst and pity, nor did he want to experience the grief of never having a father in the physical sense. And he didn't even want to get started on his emotions of feeling guilty that he couldn't even go to see his father unless he was accompanied by an older lion because he couldn't remember exactly where the peaks were located; he had been too young to recall the routes and paths his mother had taken them to get there. "No." He would keep his composure and decided against lashing out, instead letting the single word force its way out. @Nymeria's next set of words would catch the young Brynmawr by slight surprise, yellow eyes watching her face with a rather intense stare. Did he want another adult lingering about to make sure he wasn't doing anything stupid? Probably not. But something about the lioness seemed to bring some sort of calm to him, something that even his own mother didn't seem to bring him. "Does..." He would stop, shoving another pawful of sand toward the side as he thought on whether or not to continue. With a huff would he decide to bite the bullet, words being spoken in a questioning tone, "Does that make you my aunt or something?" He only knew of aunt Morrigan and nothing about his father's relatives or any were even in Amaryllis.

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