"Do you think that you'll ever have any more children?"
The question hung in the air for a long moment, silence stretching out. It wasn't quite uncomfortable, but it wasn't quite easy to answer, either - at least, if the look on Fierce Warrior's face was anything to go by. Winterkeep had avoided looking at the other kimeti for the past several minutes while they had both been foraging, and only now did he slide his eyes towards him, brows furrowed, one hoof resting in a patch of frosty red berries. They were staining the side of his leg a deep, welling red-purple that was almost bloody.
"Hm," said Fierce eventually. He was several yards away, his long, spiked tail curled protectively around a pair of wolves that were huddled in the grass, Fierce dipping his nose to sniff out potential food. Winterkeep watched him move, slow and steady, and waited for the rest of whatever was to come.
It took a while. At some length (Winterkeep wasn't entirely sure how much time had passed, and was too preoccupied with studying the other kimeti to really take note) Fierce Warrior lifted his head and leveled a look towards the sky. The tip of his snout was damp with ice and dew, his gaze a lttle distant, not quite focused. A cold breeze swept through the clearing they both stood in, heavy oak trees swaying slightly, and Winterkeep could smell the snow in the air, even if it hadn't started falling yet.
"Perhaps," said Fierce, which wasn't really an answer. "It really depends. I have...that is to say, there's someone that I..."
He trailed off, head lowering once more. Winterkeep, who did not care for speaking when instead he could simply listen, did exactly that, shifting from one hoof to another. He could feel more berries being crushed underfoot, the sweet and slightly tangy scent of them rising to greet him.
Fierce sighed. His expression had cleared, and now he was looking at Winterkeep with a somewhat rueful look.
"Anyway," he said, as if they had not just been speaking of lovers or partners or whoever it was that held Fierce's heart, "Since you asked earlier, don't worry about your children. I'm sure they'll be blessed with great strength of heart and mind, as well as decent character. A sense of adventure. The knoweldge of how to learn and when to be quiet. That sort of thing."
"That's quite specific," Winterkeep observed.
Fierce gave a little shake of his shoulders. The wolves at his tail made soft howling sounds, barely audible, and scuttled towards a nearby copse of trees to investigate a curious rustling sound coming from within.
"Perhaps," said Fierce again, "but that's all right. It's just a blessing. They're more like guidelines than actual promises, or so I've heard. So I've decided myself. You'll be all right."
Winterkeep asked, his voice flat, "Will you?"
Another heartbeat passed. Fierce smiled. It didn't reach his eyes.
"Perhaps."
The question hung in the air for a long moment, silence stretching out. It wasn't quite uncomfortable, but it wasn't quite easy to answer, either - at least, if the look on Fierce Warrior's face was anything to go by. Winterkeep had avoided looking at the other kimeti for the past several minutes while they had both been foraging, and only now did he slide his eyes towards him, brows furrowed, one hoof resting in a patch of frosty red berries. They were staining the side of his leg a deep, welling red-purple that was almost bloody.
"Hm," said Fierce eventually. He was several yards away, his long, spiked tail curled protectively around a pair of wolves that were huddled in the grass, Fierce dipping his nose to sniff out potential food. Winterkeep watched him move, slow and steady, and waited for the rest of whatever was to come.
It took a while. At some length (Winterkeep wasn't entirely sure how much time had passed, and was too preoccupied with studying the other kimeti to really take note) Fierce Warrior lifted his head and leveled a look towards the sky. The tip of his snout was damp with ice and dew, his gaze a lttle distant, not quite focused. A cold breeze swept through the clearing they both stood in, heavy oak trees swaying slightly, and Winterkeep could smell the snow in the air, even if it hadn't started falling yet.
"Perhaps," said Fierce, which wasn't really an answer. "It really depends. I have...that is to say, there's someone that I..."
He trailed off, head lowering once more. Winterkeep, who did not care for speaking when instead he could simply listen, did exactly that, shifting from one hoof to another. He could feel more berries being crushed underfoot, the sweet and slightly tangy scent of them rising to greet him.
Fierce sighed. His expression had cleared, and now he was looking at Winterkeep with a somewhat rueful look.
"Anyway," he said, as if they had not just been speaking of lovers or partners or whoever it was that held Fierce's heart, "Since you asked earlier, don't worry about your children. I'm sure they'll be blessed with great strength of heart and mind, as well as decent character. A sense of adventure. The knoweldge of how to learn and when to be quiet. That sort of thing."
"That's quite specific," Winterkeep observed.
Fierce gave a little shake of his shoulders. The wolves at his tail made soft howling sounds, barely audible, and scuttled towards a nearby copse of trees to investigate a curious rustling sound coming from within.
"Perhaps," said Fierce again, "but that's all right. It's just a blessing. They're more like guidelines than actual promises, or so I've heard. So I've decided myself. You'll be all right."
Winterkeep asked, his voice flat, "Will you?"
Another heartbeat passed. Fierce smiled. It didn't reach his eyes.
"Perhaps."