[ P ] Hold Still

More and more often, Belfast was taking his son and daughter on walks outside of the Tiamat manse. He had grown to see the walls as a prison, the warmth of the firelight as a promise of another funeral pyre. Death haunted those halls and he would live within them only as much as he must to stay by his wife's side. By day, he did his best to take Mios and Miread for fresh air. He wanted them to know what life was—not only of death. Which was odd in retrospect. It was within the Tiamat manse that he had found Xandria and the only valuable part of life that he had ever known. Yet, he thought was some amount of melancholy, all good things eventually faded away. Nothing, especially not the things you loved most, ever lasted for very long. It was just a matter of enjoying the time that you still had. "There's allegedly a seller here that sells interesting bug shells," Belfast began, not fully understanding his son's love of insects but willing to humor it with their tokens. So long as they did not scuttle or crawl, he was pleased enough to indulge. Besides, he couldn't imagine that they were very expensive. Since the war, wolves had lost disposable income for frivolous and foolish things. "Other than visiting her, is there anything else that calls to you today?" Chocolatey ears twitched and he looked to his son curiously. Mios had a way of coming up with his own adventures which was a small blessing. It was Miread that was more prone to getting stuck, always digging in her heels sharply. Wonder where she got that from. "speech"

art & table ☓ bunny

Mios looked forward to these excursions at his father’s side. They served as a brief respite from life at home, which lately felt so turbulent, and in Belfast he found a safe harbor to lower his sails. The unwelcome nervousness he felt within the walls of Tiamat manse gradually, like a shattered carapace, fell away until there was almost a pep in his step, clumsy paws scuffing the ground with each motion. There was no need to be guarded here, not with Da.

Mios glanced up at Belfast with unparalleled excitement at the prospect of adding new shells to his collection. “Really?” It was the only solution they’d found to keep him from adopting more ‘pets’ (though there were still a few they hadn’t found yet). He got to admire the array of colorful shells and arrange them however he pleased in his and Miread’s room. “Do you think—“ Mios paused, a deeply concentrated look befalling his pudgy features. He had to concentrate on certain words to say them correctly, though hints of his lisp still appeared despite his best efforts. “—she’ll have the green and red ones?” Auntie Sif, hoping to distract him, kept him occupied with picture books, and he’d become fascinated by the beetle varieties that the Mainlands simply didn’t offer.

He considered his da’s following question with no less intensity. He didn’t have many wants—but he did know what he did not want, and that was enough to jumpstart the ideas. “Caaan weee go feed the—squirrels after? I think they’re getting thin.” They weren’t. “And then! Can we—skate on the river top? And go to the book place?” Mios didn’t mind if the answers were all no. Just so long as they could stay out a while.

Just so long as they didn’t have to go back home yet.

code: elyon | art: ashon

Why his son loved bugs was a mystery to him, and why Mios hoarded them was more puzzling even still. But he didn't need to understand his pups to love them, even if he did have to sometimes drag Miread off of her brother when she found a beetle crawling around in her bedding. One day, Belfast and Xandria wouldn't be there to save him and Mios would have to catch Miri's paws at their full force. When Belfast would stop saving him, though, the man wasn't sure. It was hard to look at his round little pup and not want to protect him from the world, his sister's ire included. "Green and red ones?" Belfast echoed, ears twitching. "If she doesn't, we can ask her to bring some next time," he promised warmly. At Mios' suddenly rich itinerary, Belfast couldn't help but laugh. "Yes yes, we can try to get to it all. Miread might want to go skating too," he mused, ears flicking thoughtfully. He knew she wouldn't much like the market or squirrel feeding—she was more apt to hunt them—but flinging herself headlong across the icy surface of a river would probably call to her. ... Belfast settled himself near the stall where the insect collector had eyes sparkling almost as brightly as Mios'. The boy was keeping her on her toes and Belfast had struggled to stay awake. A bright spot of sunshine was warming him and he was beginning to drift, zoning out of the conversation—when he heard a sudden loud MEOW and barks as a shop keeper angrily chased after a small cat with a fish in its mouth. Belfast roused when the shop keeper caught the cat by the hind leg, causing it to screech loudly. He rose to his paws, startled. "speech"

art & table ☓ bunny