Not Going to Plan

Slowly waking from his beauty sleep, the young boy would stretch silently in place, doing his best not to rouse his brothers as he liked the peace being alone in the morning brought him. The more they stayed asleep, the more he could keep to himself and maybe read a book he had swiped from a neighbor not too long ago without even looking at what it was to make sure it would hold his interest. Any book could be a good book, all relics of a past no one seemed to have a logical answer for. He’s sure plenty of other wolves believed fairies did it. He let out a huff at such an absurd thought as he went to grab the tome he had tucked under a few linens so no one would damage it when he wasn’t looking. With quiet steps, he would sneak out from the room to head out onto the porch, setting the collection of parchment down, tilting his head as he would finally look at the cover. His expression instantly soured at the title of something entirely fantasy. Dragons. Really? He shook his head with frustration before he’d go to clean himself, making sure every strand matched the snow that blanketed the world as far as the eye could see. Once every hair was in place, ever so meticulous, he would focus his attention back on the book that had ruined his morning far too quickly. His nose would wrinkle at it and his ears tucked back as if waiting for the cover to apologize for being a disappointment. When of course it would not do as he wanted, he would push it into the snow to rot and think about what its done to upset him. After glaring at it for a little while, he would rise from the chill of the outside and enter the cottage once more, deciding to move onto his second activity he had planned for the day a little early. Creeping closer toward where his parents rested, he would move toward the nearly entirely white coat of his father, glancing briefly at his mother but deciding she wasn’t the one that would have answers. Without a word, he would gently bap his father in the face with a paw, demanding his immediate attention.

STOCK➤ Kati H - Dawnthieves ART ➤AMPHI

ELIAS VANADIUM

"..."

Elias, as a child, had grown accustomed to sleeping rather stretched out. His head had been gently tucked against his sister's, their paws interlaced, chests together so that the feeling of her heartbeat soothed his. Even their tails would coil together as if, should a great wave come, they'd stay interlocked through it all. Perhaps that was why, until he found Orlaith, he'd struggled to sleep.

He had lost her and yet he didn't even remember her. But he still had the feeling, lodged deep inside his chest, that Orlaith alone was not enough to fill. For, as beautiful and as interesting as she was, as much as she mattered to him, what he was missing was a part of himself.

In some ways, his sons had chipped away at that void. When Orlaith had disappeared in the war, Elias' general apathy toward the pups had shifted into a primal need to control his environment. The thought of losing them, too, had horrified him into a near militant regiment. He had seen that they were fed, taught, trained, and set to bed all in organization. While there had been some struggle through the transition, it had all evened out now. With Orlaith home, some relaxation had come, but only a little. Elias still kept the leash very tight, his demeanor still characteristically cold at first blush.

But he still liked the sound of their heartbeats when they were all together as a family. Four hearts, four, surrounding him, occasionally nestled at his belly (when Orlaith was out). It reminded him of that missing peace... yet it no longer hurt quite so badly.

...

Now, the children had rooms of their own, and Elias rested peacefully against Orlaith. He'd been reluctant to move the pups into a separate room for fear of some crazed Jacobite breaking in but Orlaith had been adamant about them being old enough to need "space" and "privacy". Elias had, ultimately, relented.

Still, sleep had gotten a bit easier without their rolling and wiggling. And, despite all of his militance he'd gained over the past few seasons, Elias never was early to rise: a bad habit from his aristocratic days.

Yet his brow flinched as suddenly a paw smacked against his face. He was awake, yes, as was obvious by the frustrated twitch of his ears. It was accentuated, even, by his soft snort.

But he didn't move. No, he would make it harder on his son if the boy truly needed Elias awake.

lost boy from neverland

The boy never found it very amusing when his father was being a potato like he was being now, barely obtaining a reaction when his white paw got a faint bit of dirt on a normally pristine face. His patience was already running thin as his gaze loomed down at his father, contemplating his next move and treating it like a chess game. What would be his next best move to knock the tyrant potato over? What he had to take into account was the kind of piece his father was on the board. It would be easy to say the King, doing whatever he wanted but too lazy to move any more than a step, but he’d argue his father was more of the bishop or rook. To take him out would not end a game, it would be continuously moving no matter how he was removed. He was also stoic and bullheaded, taking a direction and running with it. He was no knight, that was for sure. Mother was that, with her lack of predictability to the young boy. He wouldn’t overthink it for too long, however, as the faintest ghost of a smile pulled at his lips, knowing predictability would get him nowhere. Be more like his mother he would determine. Unfortunately, his mind didn’t exactly work that way, leaving him a little unsure for a few seconds after this realization but then it would dawn on him bright as day. Smacking him in the face didn’t work, so he’d do the most annoying option he could think of. Sticking his smooth tongue out, he would slurp the inside of his dad’s ear to give him a wet willy before turning gracefully so he might plop his butt right on his old man’s head with all his weight if the other didn’t move fast enough.

STOCK➤ Kati H - Dawnthieves ART ➤AMPHI