Loess chewed him up and swallowed, digested and expelled him as if the angry were the only portion of its appetite. Once his sentence was up, Litotes lingered, hovering amongst the land that he changed so drastically within. The wind is different here, somehow more cruel than Hyaline, less welcoming to strangers but warming to Lie. He embraced his change and tamed his anger over the past few weeks, but the trauma of it all still sears bitter scars across his chest.
It has been a long year, he thinks, but responsibility and longing from the Cove still draws him.
With all loyalty gone and the happenings of a kingdom he does not belong to whispered slyly in his ear by his daughter, the cremello quietly passes through the Hyaline border. Somehow, he can sense the lack of Kagerus and Solace. Their distinct absence of rule does lessen the heat the Cove spreads through his chest, but does not nearly erase it.
Brunhilde had told him that Dawn and Clayton are to rule after training with Ilma. She had also told him the sweet palomino was wildly swollen with pregnancy. Though not entirely sure the child is his, his suspicion only grew during his time in Loess. Regardless of the thoughts of others or his personal vendettas, he owes allegiance to Dawn and any child that may be his. No ill will he harbors is aimed toward the polar bear shifter; in fact, Litotes finds he quite likes her (and that if that child is actually his, he owes her an apology for being locked away for so long).
If Dawn is to become a queen, then Litotes wishes her an easy rule. For now, though, he has absolutely no interest in manipulating her for his own gain and only desires to know her better and be there for his child.
Though some may think brashly otherwise, he still has morals.
Dawn’s calls are loud and painful. He thinks it odd that he steps into the Cove the very same day she is to give birth, though Beqanna does have its strange ways of working. Though Clayton and Ilma linger on the opposite side of the cries, Litotes does not notice their scents for his focus is too intune with the future mother’s pain. He wants to rush to her side but his uncertainty keeps him planted - if the babe is not his, she may not want to see a fresh Loessian so nearby.
When the birth goes quiet, the stallion quiets his nerves and presses forward. To his surprise, Ilma and Clayton are already there. He offers them both a smile that does not reach his eyes, then turns toward the mother and . . . two fillies? Lie’s gaze widens in shock as he notices their duality and his very distinct snow markings upon their muzzles. The boyishness that won hearts before returns to his face.
“Dawn,” he whispers, forgetting the other two and rushing to her side, “they are so beautiful.” Lie places a gentle kiss on each of their foreheads before turning back to the palomino with painstaking regret.
“I am so sorry.”
Truthfully, he knows his pride does not matter here and cares not for the two sets of ears and eyes that observe his pain. The lion-man stretches his muzzle to Dawn’s if she will have him, longing only to press his deepest remorse into her skin, for her to know how badly he regrets his time absent from her pregnancy.
He then turns to Ilma and Clayton.
“Thank you for keeping her company -” knowing he should have been here from the moment labor started, knowing the comfort their presences may have offered is different than the comfort of having the other caretaker’s support.
i don't want your pity, i just want somebody near me
guess i'm a coward, i just want to feel all right
@[Clayton] @[Dawn] @[Ilma]
