(Yea, yea, it's a day late. I know. :P)
"I made you somethin' for Win'erveil."
Rheugan's initial reaction- to correct Shaur's grammar yet again- was halted once her words registered. "You made something for me?" She nodded, beaming as she held out a small object, just a shade smaller than her hand.
Rheugan took it hesitantly, holding it in one hand as he examined it. It was a wooden disk, carved on both sides. On the side he was currently staring at, a remarkable likeness of the cat's head looked back at him. The carving was rough, but the detail in the cat's expression, and the fur etched into the wood, threatened to take his breath away. He looked up at her again. "So this is what you've been hiding from me. I didn't know you carved. This is excellent."
Shaurria beamed even more at his praise. "S'more on th' back. Turn it over," she urged, and he did, then froze when he saw the other side.
Carved into the other side of the disk was a wolf's head. The detail was as fine as the cat's, but while Rheugan knew it was him in his worgen form, there was none of the savageness he would have expected to see. It looked alert, yet calm.... peaceful - like he himself had never felt while under its sway.
He momentarily forgot about Shaurria as he studied it, lost in conflicting emotions, until her fingers gently brushed his cheek. He jumped and looked up at her, startled, and she gave him a shy smile as she showed him the tear she had wiped away. "D'you like it?" she asked, with a trace of uncertainty. "I.. I wasn't too sure on what t' put on it..."
He shook his head, returning to his study of the carving. "It's beautiful. I can't believe you got it looking this accurate when you've only seen the wolf once."
"Got a good mem'ry," she said. "An'da 'n Arvoss both say so, anyway." Still shy, she reached out and took his hand. "So y'like it?"
Rheugan nodded, giving her hand a gentle squeeze. "It's perfect. Best present I've ever gotten."
"Liar." She grinned at him mischievously, then joined in when he started chuckling.
* * * * * *
It was ridiculously late. Lark knew she should have gone to bed ages ago, but Pitch didn't spend as much time with his siblings as he really should, and she hated pulling him away from the "party" early. By the time they got back to their little house, the moon was well up, the streets quiet.
Pitch was grinning as they climbed the stairs to the bedroom. Lark knew he had something up his sleeve, but knew better than to ask him about it before he was ready to tell. She didn't have to wait long, anyway, as he gently pushed her toward the bed before going to the dresser and rummaging in a drawer.
By the time he located whatever he was looking for she had settled herself in bed, and he wasted no more time in joining her. The grin on his face was, if anything, even bigger as he showed her the small bottle he had found. She quirked an eyebrow at him.
"Are you going to tell me what that is, or do I have to guess?" she asked him dryly. He answered by popping the top off the bottle, and she caught a whiff of something herbal as he poured a small amount into his palm. "Massage oil," he announced. "Happy Winter Veil, my love. Would you mind moving the sheet?"
She complied with a grin to match his own, then settled back comfortably as he started gently rubbing the oil onto the growing swell of her belly. "But I didn't get you anything," she said after a few minutes, a touch of drowsiness in her voice. Pitch glanced at her, then stopped rubbing for a moment, his hand resting over their unborn baby. "This is enough," he told her, then leaned over for a kiss before resuming the massage. Silence, broken only by Tuah's sleepy rumble from across the room, descended again for several minutes.
Lark had almost fallen asleep when he stopped suddenly with a grunt of surprise. She opened one eye to look at him, then grinned as he gaped at her. "Was that...?"
"Yes Pitch," she told him. "Guess he got tired of hiding from you... or maybe he's ticklish." She gave a grunt of her own as the baby kicked again, but Pitch's wondering expression more than made up for any discomfort. The massage forgotten, he turned cat and curled up beside her with his head resting on her belly. She finally fell asleep with her fingers buried in his fur, listening to his steady purr.
I kinda want to do a picture of Pitch and Lark now, but that would more than likely be NSFW, soooo... >.>
..... Maybe I'll do it anyway, we'll see. *Ahem* Happy Holidays, and Happy Hunting!
- Dear Shaurria,
I apologize for not writing before, I had not realized how much time had passed! I hope you will forgive me. I have been well, so don’t worry about me. Sholazar Basin is everything you described, and I have been enjoying myself here. The cat likes it too. We have been getting along well, and he has been teaching me to hunt properly. I still don’t like to kill things - it reminds me too much of the wolf, even now - but while that continues to annoy him, I think he is getting used to it.
I have not felt anything from the wolf since I arrived here. I think perhaps the cat has something to do with that, but he doesn’t answer me when I ask, so for now, it remains a mystery.
We are having a fine time. The basin seems all but deserted - I have only seen two others here besides the hunters at Nesingwary’s camp. We found the avatar of Freya here, and kept her company for a few hours, killing the undead. She seemed to warm up to us after that. Funny thing, you know how the cat dislikes to be touched, but he allowed her to pet him for several minutes. He can be a confusing creature.
I believe that is all we’ve been up to these past few weeks. I will try to write more often, if I can keep track of time better. It’s very peaceful here, all things considering. When you see Pitch next, let him know that his message did not go unheeded, and it is appreciated. I do miss everyone back in Stormwind, but if it ever becomes impossible to make my home there, I think that I could be very happy here.
Until I see you all again, your friend,
His idyll was interrupted when a dreadsaber queen found him and decided that he was not only a real cat, but that he’d also make a fine mate. His cat was... well, interested, and he spent an awkward half-hour before he finally regained enough control to change to a bird and fly away. He could only imagine what the she-cat thought about that.
All right, he thought to the cat as he flew. I will work with you if that’s what you want, but there needs to be a few lines drawn here. That is not going to happen again, am I understood? He had the sense that the cat was listening and thinking on what he said, but he got no response.
He had a strange dream that night, however. This time he found himself in the Moonglade, in what he recognized after a moment as the Cat Spirit’s clearing. Across from him sat a shaggy-looking black cat with a very familiar face- one that he had seen almost every day for over half a year. A face he had seen reflected in mirrors, shop windows, and still pools of water.
Rheugan stared at his cat. The cat stared right back at him. After a long moment of waiting, Rheugan sent a wordless, purely mental query at the cat. It blinked at him, then suddenly their surroundings melted away.
Rheugan found himself surrounded by scenes and images, so many that it took him a minute to recognize what he was seeing- memories both old and recent, all mixed together. He saw his father again, among his workers and peers both. Crowley, leading his men into battle. And finally Lark, with her strange spotted cat, Komah.
Rheugan finally closed his eyes to the visions. What are you trying to tell me? he asked the cat silently. What is it you want? The answer came immediately, in feelings so strong they might as well have been words. Partner, it seemed to say. Servant, perhaps. But never slave.
The dream faded after that, and Rheugan woke abruptly to the wind from Icecrown howling around his shelter. A light dusting of snow had blown in to cover him, but his thick fur kept the chill away.
Rheugan stood and shook himself, then left his shelter and headed up to the top of the rock. He sat there with the wind ruffling through his shaggy mane, going over every moment of his dream again and again. He had waited so long now to figure out exactly what the cat wanted, and it seemed that at last, he had his answer. Finally, as full morning brought the sun up over the highest peaks, he “reached” out to the cat.
I think, he thought to it, that we have an agreement.