[ P ] one step at a time

By the time Grigori left the Howling Moon, the sun was already high up on the sky. A bit past noon, if he had to guess... To be honest, it didn't surprise him in the least that he overslept. It's been a long night, and he had a severe sleep debt on top of that.. not that it was any excuse. There's only so much time he has available to spend with his sons before he has to get back to work, and now he might miss it...

Yet, for the first time in countless nights, the blonde brute felt rested. His body seemed lighter, even as he ran back to his den. Valerian has truly helped him - not just the things they did, but the things they talked about as well. Grigori couldn't say if this state of mind would persist, but right now, he felt ready to tackle on the present, instead of merely crumbling under the weight of the past.

But as he rushed into his humble home, the cowboy quickly realized that there was only one wolf inside. "Ah, Willow!" He made a pause to pant, catching his breath. "G'mor- er, g'day." His ears folded backwards. He could sense this wasn't about to go well, so he really didn't want to make it seem like he wasn't aware just how late he was and make things worse. "I'm guessin'.. Sundstol already took the kids out for dinner, then..?" Damn. He was the one supposed to do that. Grigori lowered himself to a sit, sighing. Of course, it would be foolish to expect everything to go well just because he felt a little better. No, what he needed to work on the most now was consistency. It wasn't enough to hope a good day would fix everything, he needed to do his best no matter what.

„*”

W

illow was still reckoning with her friend’s violent demise, still trying to comfort a grieving widower. It wasn’t just Grigori left behind, though, and perhaps it was maternal instinct that kept Willow close. Aryth and Grigori had found their sons, had created their own little family, only to have it all incinerated to the ground like a forest ablaze.

If she had only known about their boys sooner, before their father was taken from them so cruelly, perhaps things would be different now. If it weren't for the brutality, for the business of war… then undoubtedly, he would still be alive, and not rotting breath the ground with only a mound of dirt to serve as an eternal blanket…

These thoughts haunted her, more looming today than the threat of the Imperial army. The wolfess wasn't sure what happens to a wolf after they die, but she hoped it was better than this, the folly of kings and fools and those willing to lay down their lives for a cause that seemed so unnecessary.

Willow and Sundstol were on duty that evening. The children had been hard to soothe, both boys being fussy and Rowan joining along until all three demanded their full attention. But there were only so many stories she could tell, only so many lullabies she could sing. What the boys needed most was their father. Eventually, the trio of toddlers had fallen asleep. But Willow stayed awake, watchful eyes moving between the pile of pups and the door of the cottage.

Sometime in the night, however, she must have drifted off to sleep, for the sound of giggles and the prodding of tiny paws greeted her by dawn’s light. Still, Grigori was nowhere to be found, and the day progressed with the hyperactive energy of three pups at play. Sundstol took the children out to feed hungry mouths, but Willow remained at the small dwelling, waiting.

"Ah, Willow!" The owner of the home finally returned to his abode, looking like he had just run for miles. "I'm guessin'.. Sundstol already took the kids out for dinner, then..?" The brute would sit back slowly as a sigh parted thin lips. For a lingering moment, Willow was silent as she took in the sight of the widower.

He had been drinking… again.

”I trust that you are feeling alright today,” she asked in a hushed voice, concern visible in her peridot sights. ”They tried to stay up to see you. I wasn't sure what to tell them.” She was clearly referring to the man’s sons.



@Grigori

art and code by Yahtzee-Penguiduck

Willow was too kind. Not only to help him like this, but also.. Grigori was aware his actions deserved a fair amount of criticism. Of course, admonishing someone who's in grief would be a challenge in an of itself.. he hoped he'd never go as far as to push her to it. "Knowin' Peri it doesn't surprise me.. but Aph, too? He hates to miss his bed time." The cowboy chuckled softly, trying to imagine the entire ordeal. These boys of his, as different as day and night... but he shouldn't have to imagine it. "I feel.. different, than before." He didn't want to say 'better'. Less bad, perhaps. But there's no telling if anything will ever qualify as better after what he's been through.

Smoke grey eyes moved across the den, glancing over all the items left behind by his late husband. Naturally, it was mostly books. Collecting dust until his sons will learn to read them like their father had. "I couldn't sleep, y'know. Especially not... here." He could still remember the first week, before he started to look for reprieve in alcohol. Lying awake for an entire night, unable to stop thinking about Aryth.. and that's if he was lucky. If he somehow dozed off, the nightmares were worse. "But I couldn't afford to exhaust myself, had to keep on workin'. Drinkin' was a way to find some rest." It was the first time he's managed to talk about how he felt, to address the elephant in the room, ever since the day he called Willow and Sundstol to Aryth's grave. It always seemed like a better time for it would come later, a moment when he wouldn't find it so painful...

But last night, Grigori was reminded that opening up to others is what actually makes things easier.

The blonde brute stood up, walking over to one book that wasn't quite like the rest, occupying a shelf of its own. With great care, he pulled it out and opened it, before gently moving a paw over one of its many empty pages. "I got this for him.. thinkin' that he could figure out some symbols to replace the usual letters, simple enough for wolves to mark down. And then, he could note down anythin' he wanted." Grigori closed the empty tome and set it back, sighing heavily. "It was long before we found the boys, but we decided it was something our kids could learn and read. Maybe write their own stories, too.. a family tradition." And now, it could never happen. Everything Aryth had held within his brilliant mind was lost forever, never to be passed down.. except for the few parts that Grigori knew well enough. "I.. wasn't ready to raise kids, I only knew I could do it with him. He would've been so much.. better..."

His voice was stifled by the tightness in his throat. The cowboy took a deep breath, before turning to face his companion with a soft smile. It was still hard to believe how much she's grown. When they first met, she was a doubtful student.. now, an adult. A mother. Steadfast and resolute. "But I know I'm not alone. I'm grateful, truly.. for all of yer and Sund's help. I.. I think I'm ready to do better now. Or try, at least."

„*”