Vessel had taken a lot of his time – her and, well, other things we won’t mention at this exact juncture. He knows Sreva is soon to give birth, though she’s so very capable of a life on her own, he’d rather not have her wandering in solitude, unprotected and heavily pregnant. He’s quite sure he’s very late – she could be dead by now, who knows. Chemdog has been searching for days, starting in the meadow and surrounding places, now finally he is in the forest and he’s found her fresh scent. The impressions left in the soil by her hooves are deep and not weather worn; she’s heavy with child and just came through not but six hours prior. He spends time sniffing, collecting a few clues here and there and following what he can manage.

There she is. The fading sun casts only a sliver of pale yellow into the shadowed forest, lighting her and the wet child. The leaves above quake in seeming celebration and the wind whistles gently, Chemdog announces himself with a rumble of half-whickers, nostrils fluttering and he teal eyes with Sreva and then the boy. He touches his lips to her cheek first, a long hello, calm warm breath onto her sweaty cheek. His black nose moves slowly to the child, the perfect mix between the pair, and he takes in the baby’s sweet smell. Another branch of himself to wander the world, to conquer it, fuck it, burn it, love it destroy it – whatever he may want, it will be his. It is this way with any and all of his children (the ones he knows about, of course). It’s a satisfying feeling that sweeps over him now as his bright eyes tip affectionately to the mother and child, the moon positioning above them as a thin crescent; the mysterious grin of the Cheshire cat peering down at them.

He daren’t ask how it’s been without him, or if the birth was rough or not. But he’s surely got to say something, right? “I’m sorry I didn’t find you in time to be here.” He whispers with his lips against the velvet fur behind her delicate ear.

c h e m d o g

in absentia luci, tenebrae vincunt

She always knows what to say, she always had the most gentle reactions and understanding attitude. He’s overcome with admiration, dawning thoughtful eyes for his new son and tender touches all over the roan mother’s shoulder while she spoke. Xzavier… the title falls sweet and smooth onto his ears while he looks the nursing colt over. A grin, genuine and without deviousness, spreads across his dark lips. “Well it’s obvious that it is his name.” He chuckles to himself and reaches out to touch the boy again, sniffing and bumping him with warm breath.

A commotion from beyond jolts his attention, he perks instantly and steps away to look around. Others lurk and travel through – the curse of Beqanna’s public domains. He snorts unhappily and some move off, others stroll by unaffected. He growls, returning to the pair, “It’s certainly time to find a more suitable home, I’d say.” His ears pin and flip back, swivel and tilt. He does not like the action surrounding them, but in reality most of it is just travelers and grazing strangers. Still. His teal eyes are peeled and his hearing alert, air drawing carefully through his nose to pick apart the details on the wind.

“When is he strong enough to make a journey?” He says this quietly and without urgency, no need to rush a mother and her newborn, even Chemdog knows such a thing. It is important though, he ponders, to get them somewhere more…private. With that in mind, Vessel should go too (wherever they’re going). His eyes stay with the distant sounds and shadows, one ear to mother and child and the other a satellite for disturbance.

c h e m d o g

in absentia luci, tenebrae vincunt