I got a pocket full of pills, so please prepare properly

set after this thread! calling for @Ira!

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 After he'd cached most of the meat from the doe, Cupid would put his nose to work, sniffing around for the High Queen before locating her a few ways away. Giving a low chuff, he'd pin his ears back in a sign of submission, before coming around to see her – without startling her, hopefully. He swallowed the anxiety that built up in his throat, and just asked;

 “Um, High Queen Ira, may I have a word with you?” The children were three months old now; he hoped they wouldn't be too reckless while he was gone. Darn it, he should of asked Luitheri to look over them, or something. Welp, too late now, they'd manage. Hopefully.

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The roan queen had equally finished her share of the job only to begin pacing away with a sizable chunk of meat between her jaws. It was getting late so if on the off chance Hiero had not taken care of their children's needs, then she would be sure to return with dinner in tow. She only paused her steps as a chuffed drew her ear, followed by the swift approach of Cupid. Ira would raise a brow as she dropped the food from her maw to speak. “You may speak.” Despite the time, she was in no real hurry to return to her den to rest, even if her expression stained by blood may give the man a different impression. If there was one thing she was bad at, it would be resting when free time approached her.

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 “You may speak.” Cupid held his breath for a moment, trying to find the right words, before blinking away the anxiety and just . . . speaking. It was harder than it sounded, in all honesty, and the sire thought he was about to die due to self-inflicted suffocation before the words – trapped like thorns – ever spilled from his maw. “I've come to you for . . . advice,” He begun.

 “You are probably better versed in the art of raising whelps than I,” Cupid said, looking from her, to the direction of his den, to the ground, and then back to her; meeting the High Queen's gaze felt like it'd be quite the challenge, in truth, though he also felt that maybe he should just look at her instead of being super fucking awkward about all of this. He took a deep breath. “And, of course, I want to raise them right. I want to be a father that's good for them.” Unlike his own.

 He breathed. He was doing a lot of that. It was weird. But it was also normal. Breathing is normal, breathing is natural. Why was he getting so worked up over breathing? He blinked. He denied his brain the right to go on a tangent about that. “I find myself . . . struggling with them. Most specifically Droplet. I just . . . need a way to manage, and I need to be good enough. I don't want them to hate me, you know?” Because he couldn't stop thinking about it.

 “Please tell me you have at least some sort of advice . . . anything will do, High Queen.” He dipped his head once more, as if worshipping some sort of higher deity; though it was merely a roan majesty, standing tall above him; the one who would decide his fate, Cupid thought. The pressure was real. Please like me.

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So he wished to know how to raise his offspring...it only furthered her complaint of harboring children with no means to ensure their upbringing, but...she understood that was not necessarily a conscious decision in this case. A slow breath would come from her nostrils as the other's gaze skirted in every which direction. His nervous energy may easily be infectious to his children, but it was clear where his heart laid. He cared. It was a start.

By the time Cupid finished his plea with his head bowed as if groveling, there would only be silence. There was no one way to raise a child. Even her and @Hieronymous differed on that front. After a moment's thought, she would finally speak. “Your children will hate you.” Words she knew he would not want to hear, but words she saw as true. “But they will also find room to love. There is no straight cut path. As a parent, it is your job to ensure they walk the right path, but how they walk it or at what pace is not up to us.” She noted his mentions of Droplet in particular. If the roan woman remembered correctly, that was the pale child who seemed overly ambitious and excitable...much like @Rea had been at the girl's age.

“I take it, however, that this is not the advice you came in guidance for.” Her words were valuable in her own eye, but nothing noteworthy in terms of action. It would do better to know what specifically he struggled with before she advised him further, though. “What is it you are uncertain of? How to teach them lessons? Reinforcement, outbursts, something else?” By no means could she say she had nailed the middle two, but she seemed to make strides with her more troublesome children daily.

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 “Your children will hate you.”

 He blinked. What? No, surely not, there had to be something he could do. There had to be a way to make sure that they didn't hate him, because Cupid had most certainly hated his parents. He didn't want such a thing to happen again, but thankfully, none of his pups were in the same situation as he was; a mix between what was "normal" for other wolves, but even if they were, Cupid wouldn't fucking hide it from them.

 “But they will also find room to love. There is no straight cut path. As a parent, it is your job to ensure they walk the right path, but how they walk it or at what pace is not up to us.” His silence was a clear indicator of his confusion, though Ira was beginning to make sense; kids would always have that angsty stage where they just wanted to get out of the house and do everything in their power to be reckless, but eventually they'd come to terms, right? They had to. “I take it, however, that this is not the advice you came in guidance for.” He shook his head wordlessly.

 The man was completely unaware of the High Queen's own struggles, assuming that she dealt with her whelps with powerful ease, though it'd turn out that they weren't too different after all. “What is it you are uncertain of? How to teach them lessons? Reinforcement, outbursts, something else?” He swallowed, thinking for a moment. “Discipline,” He begun. “I'm not an aggressive man by any means, but Droplet . . . she's just, so rambunctious, and most certainly offensive. She's quite difficult to handle, but the rest of my whelps . . .”

 Cupid sighed. “They're so much more manageable than her, I don't understand it. She's just . . . I'm worried she'll turn out like her father; she shares his appearance, and the aggression is just . . . I don't know, High Queen, but it's most worrying, to me, at least.” Little did he know that his daughter would probably make a fine hunter, or warrior, though due to him being but a simple pacifist . . . neither were really things he could see himself being, so how could he see his own children taking on such a role? It was hard to imagine, though somehow easy at the same time. Being a parent was hard.

 Too hard. He should've been more careful . . .

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He would blink wordlessly at her as she tried to lay forth her knowledge, but even she was not so straight cut as to give a simple answer. As the roan woman suspected, there were much more direct matters that concerned him, specifically about Droplet. Ira could recall the young girl from their first encounter. She seemed eager to learn and thrilled by the hunt. Both qualities that could make her a fine young wolf, however, she had far less exposure to the youth and a limited view into her world.

Hiero had not shared much about Cupid’s circumstances on his arrival, only that he was in need of a home to raise his young and that he had once been assaulted on his beaten path. She hadn’t cared to learn more at the time, more occupied with the mystery of him as a wolf, though ultimately she could only succumb to what her eyes could tell. It left many questions, but spoke little of his character. “Her father.” Her words trailed off as she glanced with confusion to the “man” before her. She still struggled to understand what exactly he chose to display for his children. He wished to be addressed as a man, yet he acted as his welps mother. As far as titles go, he had chosen that of a father, but it seemed he now referenced another.

“Regardless…some children grow aggressive as they feel limited. They are young and see themselves immune to hardships. A child can not understand a parent’s protection until they are faced with such dangers themselves…” Wolves are not born evil, it is a trait that is learned, if you even considered evil a true concept. To Ira, there was greed, hunger, defiance, but no evil. “Redirection has aided my own, even if one might not become fully contempt. Offer what appears to be leeway, though under your own terms and what you deem acceptable or safe to her upbringing. 

My daughter wishes to fight, though she is plagued with an illness no wolf can ever understand. Without limits she would quite literally run herself into an early grave. A struggle her father and I still seek to end, but we have made progress by offering the path of a hunter.” Truthfully, Ira was still not satisfied with their solution, not while @Rea was still ignorant to her disability, but perhaps loosening these reigns would allow her to grow where parenting would not.

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It was… definitely a surprise to hear that Ira struggled with the same things as he did. Well, not the same things exactly, but to be able to unite over the hardships of parenting made Cupid feel… better about himself, like he wasn't doing such a shitty job at raising the future generation. That maybe… he was doing things at least semi-okay. "-A struggle her father and I still seek to end, but we have made progress by offering the path of a hunter.” A hunter, perhaps such a path would be good for his own daughter, if she didn't wish to fight – she'd make a fine warrior, he knew, but only if she could hone herself. Focus.

“Thank you, Ira,” Cupid sighed. It would take time… a long time, probably, until his daughter would be allowed to go off on her own with the trust that she wouldn't wind up dead or with a thousand enemies, but he was willing to try. That's what counted, right? He would try. “I'm worried that I'll begin to micro-manage her, or that I'll get too close,” He winced. It was… a gaping insecurity for him, but nonetheless, it needed to be addressed. To be fixed. “I don't want her to run off and get herself hurt. She'd reckless and… not blunt, but she most certainly wouldn't sugar-coat things for anyone, either. I don't want her to end up with an endless list of bounties on her head…”

He looked back to the queen, though. “I'm sorry. It isn't my place to complain.” The man wanted to vent, sure, but that was not why he came here. He came here to learn; to expand his knowledge and make sure he was being a responsible parent, and he was beginning to find out that it was all a lot harder than it'd first seemed. He just had to hope that he could manage it. “Thank you for all the advice, High Queen.” His tone was that of if you'd like me to go, I may, but he gave her a look; had she anything else to say?

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“You are a parent, it is what we do.” Especially with one's first brood. They only wanted the best for them and to prevent the worst from ever happening. Unfortunately, life was not so forgiving and their young would face trials of their own with time, the most they could do was teach them how to survive and thrive instead of shelter and hope to prevent the impossible. “Perhaps not all will like her, but she will come to terms with how to behave with time. She will get hurt at some point, and she will hurt others, the best you can do is show her how to overcome and persevere.”

There was little else she could really say to ease his anxieties. It was a hill he would have to learn to surmount on his own, just as she climbed hers. Perhaps they would never get to the top, but there were rewards along the way that made the climb well worth the trouble. “As I have said before, you are Vanderfell now. Your concerns are the pack's and anything you or yours encounter will be overcome together. Never feel that you can not speak with a member of the Skald. I will not, however, keep you if you are not ready or have little left to discuss. You know where to find me.”

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“As I have said before, you are Vanderfell now. Your concerns are the pack's and anything you or yours encounter will be overcome together. Never feel that you can not speak with a member of the Skald. I will not, however, keep you if you are not ready or have little left to discuss. You know where to find me.” With a silent nod, he swallowed. He knew – or, well, moreso hoped – that she'd be open to counsel him again on the raising of his whelps; this most certainly wouldn't be the last time that he retreated to her respite of knowledge.

He sighed. “Thank you.” This was… tough for him. He struggled with being vulnerable like this. “I should probably go check on them… thank you for having me, High Queen.” He dipped his head to the roan woman, before quickly turning away. Hopefully Droplet hadn't uprooted the ends of the earth yet. At least Mythic and Mars were a little more… manageable, unlike the ruffian girl. Hm…

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