Anxious, endlessly anxious. He had known for days that something was different with her and he did not know what he should do; was he to hunt? How much if that were the case? They had a suitable den but was it truly good enough? No, he imagined nothing was good enough for his Caligula, even the wonderfully hidden den she had settled into. Not only that but he had awoken that day to her nudging him quite literally out of the den - she did not want him there. If there were any wolf capable of not only elevating but deflating his usually flatline mood, it was she. Her dismissal caused a deep unrest within him, one that he could not refrain from fretting over no matter how far he roamed or how busy he attempted to stay.

It had always been the case - Caligula had only ever been the one to have any kind of sway over him. He was not sure what it was or why it was, only that it was. Even his mother had been unable to fluctuate his moods - of course, anger had been one she had been able to incite but even then, it was rare. Caligula on the other hand had utmost power over him. If she desired a kingdom, he would fight for every last one in Moladion; she had desired a family and he had obliged. He could only pray the family he could provide would be enough to appease her - it was all he wanted. Her happiness, her joy, that tiny smile she would give each time he entered the den. Perhaps he was being sentimental that day, a side effect of the stress, but he'd decided he would have to try harder to be worthy of her.

In an effort to alleviate it, he had taken to hunting. With spring came the sudden explosion of the rabbit population - they hid within their dens but they were easily snuffed out if one had the patience. Thankfully, he had that patience and had spent over half the day examining each and every burrow he could find until he finally found what he had been looking for. Though the older rabbits had immediately fled, their young were not fast enough and after some moments of digging, he was able to pluck each one from the darkness. Four, though small - each one delicately placed at the mouth of his Caligula's den with a low whine before he removed himself once more. He could smell the blood and hear the weak cries but he knew his place was not there, not yet. Instead, he continued on with his efforts until he had brought her six small kits and one of the larger rabbits; though his belly rumbled and growled in hunger, he refused to take even one from her. They were all for her. He'd not been ignorant of her weight loss and had quietly cursed himself over allowing such a thing to occur. Life as a loner, it seemed, was not as easy as they had imagined (as much as he hated to admit it.)

Finally, he had been gone for far too long and his anxiety ridden mind forced him back to the den empty pawed. For some time he had simply sat a distance away, every inch of his body focused in the direction of his mate - he truly looked stricken, his lips taut and ears pushed forward so far on their axis'. Eventually he moved forward with a sharp bark, his tail waving nervously behind him as he stuck his nose into the den, pushing down with it the offerings he had brought. He let out a low whine, hoping she would not lash out at him as he attempted to catch a glimpse of their family in the dim light. He could just see them - two dark forms and a brighter, russet one it seemed. He watched them curiously, his head tilted, as they squirmed and kicked about in the dark folds of his beloved's fur. It was almost strange to think they were just as much his as they were hers; they had finally done it. It was not just the two of them alone against the world anymore.

"They are perfect, as are you."

He breathed out in relief though it only lasted a few moments before his gaze sought hers; the smell of blood, he was sure, was not normal. If she would allow him, he would creep in further to continue her work, to further clean not only she but the den and children, too. Their names, he figured, could wait - besides, they could not even hear their names yet. He did not know all too much about children, or even how to raise them, but he knew that much at least.

T E S S E R A C T
[ five - soul of caligula ]