[Transplant] For The Best

[Moonstone Dazzle]

His mother was not weak. This was a fact that he knew, had known since his childhood. She was beautiful and sad, but never had Grey thought her useless. It was nothing against her character that he hunted for her- rather, there was something that sang in his bones when he hunted. Something that just felt right, Bygone at his side as they stalked across the swamp. The world made so much sense with the imminent joy of a kill before him. Today, he threw himself to it completely- let the wind sweep his hair as he ran, Bygone's paws a familiar sound behind him.

Eventually, Grey skidded to a halt, muscles tense at he froze. The trail he had been following was there, enticing in its scent, but there was something else there. Something he knew somehow, but unfamiliar by the same measure. Bygone caught up to him, seemingly taut with that same nervous energy. That there was something off about their hunt this afternoon, something besides prey at the end of the chase. Grey clicked his tongue at the wolf, bidding him stay, and as ever he did. Faithful, loyal. It was the best of the things Grey saw in himself, saw in his siblings. Only, he liked to think, without the turmoil. Lacking the itch that haunted his dreams, clawing beneath his fur. Bygone waited for him, eyes trained in waiting, as Grey turned to the wilds.

"Is someone there?"

[anemosagkelos]

It had been years since Heritage had been happy. As the time had crawled on, he had let himself go--he ate just enough to make it another day but he overindulged his pets for they were the only family he had. For as much comfort and love they gave him, they were also a constant reminder of how alone he felt. Instead of growing feral with the pain, he had wilted.

The growl of his stomach was loud as he tried to track the boar that had threatened his pets. It wasn't vengeance that led him to think of killing the creature nor even a want for its death. The simplicity of safety was his concern and something must die or others to live. He wondered when it would be his own that fed the life of the swamp's creatures.

Any progress towards finding the boar was lost as a voice cut into the wind. He sighed, not annoyed but tired, as he debated whether he should answer. He didn't want to talk and yet it had been so long since he'd had company... He turned to his wolves, took in their rigid stance and perked ears.

"Stay," he told them gently and then moved forward. He emerged onto the path looking almost gangly in his too thin body. The once silky fur was more matted than it had any right to be. And whatever threat or intimidation may have once radiated from him was replaced with only weariness.

"Yes--" the word was all he could utter before his voice seemed to flatten into a choke. A wolf. It had to be. That tail was too like his own and that face... And yet he had horns and scales... Still, there must be some wolf in there to make them so alike. Right?

[Moonstone Dazzle]

The other kin's surprise had to be a mirror of his own, shock evident on Grey's face. As far as he had been made aware, there were not others like them. Their mother had been evasive in answers, her heart breaking every time one of the pack had asked about their past. It had hit the point where none of them dared to bring it up, lest Ashborn tear into them for upsetting her. Grey had wondered- how could he not, when they seemed so different from the others of their kind, so foreign even from their mother- and he found himself at a loss for words. Grey just stared, agape. And, more than just the familiarity of their forms, how their shapes seemed so similar, it couldn't be overstated how...

Grey managed to break his gaze away from the stranger, turning back to the path from where he'd come, and clicked his tongue yet again. Bygone trot in after him, answering the call and coming to sit beside his hunting companion. It was damning enough, seeing them against one another. They could have been twins, save for the size and the hooves. This wolf- this wolf, ever his companion and friend, who his mother had said the Motherfather graced her with after their father had left- was this buck's spitting image. Grey tried to will himself to speak, but the words were gone. When he managed again, it was nothing short of a broken, strangled sound.

"It's... it's you. You're--" But he could not voice it aloud, could not make himself say the words.

[anemosagkelos]

If the surprise of the kin-wolf was not enough--he felt very exposed and vulnerable to see what had to be his exact look-a-like as a true wolf. He didn't know what to feel as every emotion welled and warred inside of him.

He could have been jealous, angry to see that he apparently existed as a true wolf in this same land as he was placed in a body that was not. He could have thought this kin-wolf had somehow robbed him of this wolf that clearly should have been his own. And yet, as soon as those flickered to life, the beat of his heart blew such thoughts out.

Once, he would have thought it was a sign. He'd thought she was a sign and then his heart had been battered and rent. And even when Cherished had come into his life--he'd been a wreck. He'd gone back, sure that the Motherfather was trying to tell him something and then he'd seen that Keepsake had a child. The same tail, he'd once thought meant she was a wolf, and the same horns. Dark on white, that was not like him at all. And he turned tail and ran with the knowledge he had been replaced. He'd been a mess. And now he wasn't sure that signs were anything but wishes. Delusions.

And yet...

"Have we met?" he wondered aloud, sure that he would remember doing so and yet having no memories of this kin-wolf. He seemed to know him, though.

Anxiety tumbled around his stomach. Perhaps he should have ignored the voice and gone on his way. He was beginning to fear what this kin-wolf might know that he did not.

[Moonstone Dazzle]

Grey gave a broken noise, the surprise gone in lieu of sorrow. He didn't know him- didn't know them, he realized, thinking to his siblings back home. What would the pack think? What would they say, if he were to bring this father-turned-stranger into their home? That war that itched eternal under his fur now burned into his throat, made his head throb in something like pain. Several times Grey opened his mouth, intending to speak, intending to explain, but the words would not come.

"N-no," he finally answered, staring firmly at the ground as he answered. The pain must have been evident in his voice, for Bygone was at his side, pressed firmly against his side with a whine. Grey could not even look at the wolf, could not return the affection so freely given. It felt so... wrong. His own being, the wolf before him, the kin who stood as his double. For all that he thought himself strong, thought he knew the complexities of life, he was lost. Was this how mother felt all the time? Grey was completely frozen, waiting. What was he to say? What would the others do?

Finally, finally he forced himself to look up. To be strong, the way he was meant to be. His eyes betrayed his worry and his fear, and there was the slightest of wavers in his voice as he spoke.

"You're my father."

[anemosagkelos]

"Your," he shook his head, trying to remember what that word even meant. He felt a tremor run through his body and he took a step backwards. He wasn't a father as he had no children. And while the swamp was wide and open--no, she would have found a way to tell him if there were children. "I have no children, I'm afraid," he said at length even as the words caused him sorrow, pain. It was the truth. Or so he the truth he knew.

[imgright]http://matope.pixel-blueberry.com/image ... uncert.png[/imgright][imgright]http://matope.pixel-blueberry.com/image ... uncert.png[/imgright]He let out a sigh and thought to his pets, thought of this kin-wolf and the true wolf. Much as a part of him would have liked such to be true--all he had ever wanted was a family--he couldn't lie. He was alone, the same as he always had been.

"Excuse me a moment, I was tracking a boar that had threatened my friends and wish to make sure they are safe still." He needed a moment to breath. A moment to stop the tears that weighed behind his eyes and the sickness that threatened to send him retching. It was only a step away, a moment of being shielded from view before he returned with Recall and Cherished.

Collected, barely, he looked at the two across from him. What was he to do or even say? He could not play father nor could he offer to help him find one. And yet, he could not just leave either. He was at a loss.

"I am unsure of what to do. I do not know of any children and cannot see how that information wouldn't be given to me if it was true. I am sorry; I did not enjoy growing up without a father. It is a hard path to travel and I would wish it on no one."

[Moonstone Dazzle]

"Of course," Grey responded, beyond his control as he watched the other buck go. In reality, he was closing off. Like he was preparing to go to sleep for the night, only now it was everything. His heart, his soul- none of it was responding anymore. It did not feel like he could move his body, could take any actions in wake of the complete denial that the other buck had offered.

He hadn't been aware that it was raining before now, but there was wetness on his face, rolling in fat drops down to splash against the soil. He couldn't be crying, no. It wasn't like he had spent his whole life wondering, dreaming. Thinking that perhaps, one day, there would be a buck who answered his questions. A buck who looked like them, who could help to quell the uncertainty and the misery. Perhaps a buck who would come back to make mother smile again, to make her laugh like she did when they were young, and...

"I... I'm sorry, then. Mother just told me of a wolf-" the words faded yet again at seeing the strange wolf that appeared alongside the stranger, and there was no denying it. That pale fur, the white tail...

"I. She looks like her. Keepsake. My mother." He gave a sad laugh, forcing himself back to his hooves, shaky as he stood. Even if he fell again and again, like a foal, he would run from here. Run from this place, banish this meeting from his mind. Home waited for him across the swamp, where his brothers and sisters would be there to welcome him. His first step was wobbling, the second moreso.

"I'm sorry. To have taken your time. I must be mistaken, then," and that hurt was still in his voice, at being so denied.

"Please. Return to your hunt, I'll be on my way."

[anemosagkelos]

Keepsake. The name that was once a balm was now more like an attack. His entire body reacted, a flinch followed by hunching inward in attempt to make himself smaller. As though submission might ease the pain, tell that he was suffering and some kindness was pause it.

"This is Cherished," he introduced the muskwolf. The affection was clear for even though she was named in a memory that made him ache, she had chosen him to care for her no matter how he'd told her he wasn't enough. He often found that he was a fool to the whims of his heart and the Motherfather. "I named her after your mother," he admitted, words timid.

And he couldn't be the child's father. Even if he wanted to be. Someone would have found him, adrift and alone, and told him he had a family. She would have gotten word out, surely. She was kind and beautiful and--there was only one way to know.

"Heritage," he breathed his name, "take my name to your mother and then we all will know."

Unspoken was that he would wait, that if this child was his then he would try to be a father. All he had ever wanted was family but not like this. To know he had lost children, lost the chance to raise them, hurt them by not ever having known they existed... He could never make up for all of that, if any of it. Nor would that hurt ever ease. Perhaps he hadn't known Keepsake very well at all.

[Moonstone Dazzle]

"Hello there, Cherished," Grey managed, and now he could admit that he was crying, the tears more free-flowing. She was a lovely thing, and it almost hurt, to see her so happy. To see that this buck, who his mother had loved so dearly, was so broken and lost. Like she was, but in his own way. He couldn't dream what had happened between them- the story remained yet another enigma of his past, another riddle unsolved in the world's whims.

Heritage. A name. Grey forced himself to steel his nerves, and nodded to the older buck. He muttered quietly for Bygone to join him, and the wolf stood, seemingly understanding that they were to move again. Grey's eyes moved from the wolf back to the buck who shared his colors, his skins, everything but form.

"I will be back," he spoke quietly, then turned and ran. Ran back to the wind that did not lie to him, to the hunt that did not forsake him. There was a destination at the end, one that he knew he had to reach. But for now, he could find solace in running once more.

--




It was not long until the buck had returned, but this time he was resolute. There was something like anger in his eyes, but not directed to Heritage. Instead, that negative feeling was cast backwards, to some unseen traveling companion who had followed him here. Grey sat down, and waited.

Her reaction had been enough. Speaking the name was the final blow, the killing strike in favor of his suspicions. She had stilled even more than she already had, and had asked in all but a whisper-

How do you know that name.

And she arrived from that same path, every step timid and requiring all of her will to continue. Even if he was matted and thin, he was ever as handsome as she remembered. For all of Grey's uncertainty, all of his pain, Keepsake's anguish was immediate. She hung back still, unable to force herself closer. It was like too many of her dreams, too many of her wishes she had long remembered. Heritage, here. So close that she could almost feel his warmth, could recall the press of his body as he slept beside her. She remained frozen in the path, simply staring.

"It really is you," she finally sobbed, voice immediately broken. Keepsake turned her face away, hair obscuring the hot tears along her cheeks. She had known if ever she were to find him again, this would happen. That she would fall apart just as she had before, left again when she had thought to know happiness. It was the black heart her father had passed unto her, something that begot tragedy and welcomed misery into its depths. When she managed to speak again, it was still to Heritage, but she could not make herself behold him.

"You- you were so upset. I wanted to see you so badly, I tried looking for you when they came- but I thought. I was so sure, I just knew you would hate me. Wouldn't want to see me again."

[anemosagkelos]

Alone. The time seemed to drag out and on, a limp carcass dragged by time's sharp teeth. And then it had gone too fast.

What is it to breathe, he cannot seem to remember. The upset was clear in the kin-wolf and, for a time, he mourns and aches for this child who is not his. He is sure that Keepsake has had to tell him that the name of his father is not Heritage. And even as he knew it was true, it still hurts.

He opened his mouth to offer his condolences, his understanding, but the words fall back down his throat as she appears. The pressure of tears had built too long and he weeps, silent. She is as beautiful as ever and--again, every thing he has believed is wrong.

"Keepsake," the name feels so fragile on his tongue, "I could never hate you." And for all the needs to be said, to be drawn out, he is drowning in a turbulent sea. He has children. A family. Bile rises up his throat, he abandoned his family. He feels sick and weak and so sorry.

His eyes cut to the kin-wolf, his voice thick, "Hello, son."

[Moonstone Dazzle]

"No, please- please don't cry. This is my fault. I should've--" Where once she might have immediately run to his side, quelled those tears, Keepsake hesitated. Her hoofsteps were shy, each one riddled with doubt that she had not previously known. But... he was crying over her, wasn't he? Did that not mean something? When he did not seem to balk from her, each movement grew bolder, each step more decided. She had dreamt of this for years, chased this moment even when she awoke. What was so wrong with letting herself try again? Keepsake eventually came up to him, and even though she too was crying, she nuzzled gently at his face.

"I'm so sorry, Heritage. This was my fault, I should've-" There were so many things she could have, should have done. So many if's unrealized, so many days spent chasing these daydreams. He was thin and matted, and Keepsake couldn't have loved him more.

"Please. Let me try to make this right? There's-- there are four others of them. Besides my sweet Grey," she looked over to where he sat, awkwardly ready for whatever happened with this meeting. It was clear that, despite his best efforts, he was affected by this emotional turmoil.

And he was.

From where he sat, his mother and his long-absent father-- not by his own choice now, the feeling settled uneasily in Grey's stomach-- reunited. Here. Because of a chance hunt. What would have happened had they not crossed paths? Had he not taken that chance to voice that thought? Grey offered Heritage a shaky smile, his own words uncertain.

"It's so nice to meet you. Finally."

[anemosagkelos]

He wants to go to her but his legs are stone, immovable. He wants to offer comfort and be a balm to the aching guilt that spins through her words. He wants and yet he does nothing at all. He is thunderstruck with wonder and hurt. And it takes him far too long to remember how to speak, how to move. It's the touch of her that wakens him, just as much as it torches through his body in a way that is both relief and terrible pain.

A minute passes before he turns his nose to press it against her cheek. It's natural and haunting, memories of joy and the breaking of such into pieces. Regardless, he does not want her to feel pain or be unhappy and--

"Fo-four?" he stutters the word out in surprise.

He has gone from alone to a father of five in a matter of seconds. Goodness.

"You raised our five children all alone?" he voices in wonder. And then he slides his cheek against hers, curving his neck around the back of her own in a bold embrace before pulling back, just enough so that they can stare at one another. "Thank you. You are so strong and so kind, Keepsake, to have reared such beautiful children and kept them loved. I am so sorry you had to do it all by yourself." And he will never be able to fully repent for that, he knows.

He bows his head, he has so much to repair and discuss and grieve for with her but this moment is bigger than the two of them. They have a son and four other children he has yet to meet. He turns to Grey, moves towards him with a shyness buoyed by joy.

"Grey," he tries the name out on his tongue. It sounds firm and happy in his voice. "I'm sorry it took me so long to meet you. I hope we can get to know each other now and I shall never let myself be parted from you again." It's not a reflection on Keepsake; it's only on himself. He wishes no upset to be place upon the shoulders of the doe who birthed them, who raised them. And yet he knows it won't be that easy. There will be anger and pain but he will weather it. Prove to them that he is not going anywhere. Even should they wish it, he won't be able to stray far now.

[Moonstone Dazzle]

"No, please don't apologize to me. I could've--" She could have searched more. Could have been honest with them, let them make their own decisions, instead of hiding in fear. Let the little ones know past the tears how much she had loved Heritage, how much she still loved him, how good and warm and wonderful those memories were. Keepsake had spent so long by his side, and now, back with him once more, it was... it was better than the dreams. Greater than the wanting and the longing.

She let him pull away, knowing that this was not a goodbye. Even if everything in Keepsake screamed at her not to let her be left again, not to let Heritage leave so easily this time, she knew it would be alright. Not easy, perhaps, but alright. The thought was enough to make her smile easier, the curve of her lips not so forced this time.

"Grey," she spoke, a little more of the tone she took as his mother creeping into her words than the soft gentility she offered Heritage endlessly. Nothing so unkind as to be rude to him, but more grounded. Knowing that there was a role to fill, and it fell unto her.

At his mother's addressing him, Grey perked up, ears flicking in her direction.

"Yes?" He questioned, back to the picture of the perfect son. She looked at him, somehow like she could see right through it, but still smiled regardless.

"Why don't you take Heritage on a run? See what it's like to run with the wolves," she urged, and of course. Of course she knew, even if he had not voiced it to her. If she had known of his parentage, had known that perhaps Heritage felt this same clawing and itch, then... well. It made sense that she would see it in him. He was a bit more timid than he expected himself when he turned to the older male- his father- and smiled.

"Would... would that be alright with you? A run?"

[anemosagkelos]

He cannot help his apologies but he relents to save them for another time. There will be a lot of discuss and consider but to do so all at once would be too draining and thus he quiets the replies that crawl into his mouth to defend her. They are a strange pair, always had been, yet there is some amusement tinged with aggravation if they are to continue this volley of sorry. Later he shall beg forgiveness...

Heritage turns his attention to his son and feels the adrenaline flush through his veins. He has not run in what feels like ages, not like he has longed to and yet been unable to due to sinking down into depression. He feels the smile spread, ears perking upright, and begins to nod.

"I would enjoy that very much," he replies, then briefly turns back to Keepsake.

"We shall return to you shortly," he promises, with a press of his nose against her temple, and then turns to stand by his son.

Wolves, he thinks, as he takes them all in. Himself and his son. Cherished and his doppleganger. Recall. He tilts his head up and howls, regardless that it is not night, and with one last glance beside him he takes off into the wilderness.