Post by Therdde on May 8, 2009 1:16:37 GMT -5
Characters:
Kein - Male Cougar
Ama - Female Cougar
- Pine Grove -
Though he told himself to focus his patrols on the north and east borders, Kein has spent very few hours in the past couple days near those borders. There is a lot of ground to cover in Amaranth, and in addition to his other duties, he is still determined to find Ama quickly... But determination aside, the greater part of his attention is not on his environment. He smells whenever a new breeze comes his way, and he does not look exclusively in front of him, but he is spending a lot of time just thinking, and very little of that thinking is about Ama. After all, he has already reached some conclusions on that matter. There are others that he will have to spend days yet thinking about, and those are what is on his mind now, as light from the sun overhead continues filtering thinly through the thick pine needles on the trees.
She has always been one of the more solitary members of the tribe. Always - but she has been a member of the tribe for as long as - and before - Kein was chieftain. The cougaress is more or less unaware that she has been sought after these past few days and more. Her time has been spent in seclusion since news of Nayeli's recovery has reached her. There has been no need for her to "keep an eye on things" any more. And no need for her to try counseling little Kaya again. It is time now for Ama to come out of hiding however. Winter has come on strongly. Soon enough spring will arrive. In the spring, perhaps she will move to visit her sons again. But perhaps that would not be wise. She has nearly recovered from most of her emotions. Doubts still haunt her at times, but... nothing she can't live with. As she pads under the pine boughs, she catches a faint whiff of... she knows that scent. Kein. Ama doesn't alter her course to avoid her chieftain, rather, she stops what she's doing and settles quietly onto her haunches, as if she were waiting. Waiting for what?
Or maybe she will be pressed to visit her sons even before spring arrives. It is funny, Kein tells himself, briefly, as the faintest hint of Ama's scent catches his attention. Just a few weeks ago, he had to warn himself against being too compassionate with Ama. Now, he has to warn himself against violence. Even if she is guilty of everything he thinks she is, she has not earned any violence from the Chieftain... But she'll have most definitely earned her eviction. Finally, Kein passes the last tree that blocked Ama from his vision, and he stops walking abruptly to just look at her. And smell. Wherever she has been, since he has last seen her, it was not with her sons. There is none of their scent on her... Which means nothing in particular, but it helps him to remain calm. "Ama." There are no pretenses at politeness, but he at least gives her a chance to acknowledge his presence before he launches into the reason why he has been searching for her.
The chieftain... and uncertainty. It's strange - a deep feeling of foreboding has passed over Ama even as she seats herself. She means to rise and, perhaps, go to the lake. It is a peaceful there. But even as she does so, the chieftain himself appears between the trees. And she notices that he seems ... "better." Compared to the last time she met him. And yet, he greets her in a fashion that does not suggest recovery. Foreboding indeed. The cougaress rises slowly, padding close enough that she needn't raise her voice, her eyes locked on the chieftain. "Good afternoon, Chieftain," she greets him cordially - as she usually does - but her brows furrow slightly as if with concern. She keeps herself from asking about his or Nayeli's condition. Something seems to be awry.
The way she greets him, so... Normally... It would be so easy for Kein to take all of the rage that should be directed at those who attacked Nayeli and Cael, transfer it to Ama, and then tear into her for what must be an implication that he is stupid, inept. Does she really think, still, that he would never find out until it was too late... Or does she really not know? It is that chance, however slim he may view it, that remains that forces him to bite back the anger, to remain outwardly calm. "I have news of your son. Cheveyo." He says the name with venom in his tone, as though the son of Ama who he has never met represents to him all that he hates, every force that threatens to tear apart his family and this tribe. Will she continue to be so casual with him, and thus buy herself some small amount of trust, or in the face of what he must know, will she come clean and beg for the mercy that Kein is finding in very short supply ever since his mate was attacked? He watches her closely, not only listening for what she might say, but observing her for any hints that she might be lying.
No, no. Something isn't right at all. But she can't place it. What has happened? She believed all was well. Is that not the message she was given just over a week ago? Perhaps a little longer... but still. She thought things would be all right. It put her at ease. But this doesn't seem right at all. And the way he speaks- her ears go back. Defensively. Worriedly. She knows the emotion in his voice is negative. But she can't help but feel worry - a mother's worry - and it shows blatantly on her face. She blinks, her tail curling behind her. "Yes? What is it, Chieftain? Is my son well?" She hopes so. But... that must have been a dumb thing to ask. "Is something wrong?" A small tremor in her heart. Yes, a small voice whispers. Yes. Something is wrong. And in the back of her mind she tries to remember something she heard. A reason for this foreboding... but she can only remember the moon and... something. What is that something?
Yes. 'All is well.' What /did/ that message that he unwittingly passed onto Ama mean? Taking a step closer to the female, though he does not growl or do anything else that could be construed as threatening, Kein says, "Oh, I'm sure your son is quite well. He is well enough to plot against my family. Well enough that he can try to convince other cougars to do the same." And if Kein were to have his way, Cheveyo would not remain 'well enough' for very long. It is only that he has smelled Cheveyo nowhere near his home that has kept him from directly confronting Ama's other-son himself. How long will that distance keep him from doing something? Maybe not long at all, since the source of his information leads him to believe that Cheveyo has had some success. For all Kein knows, the cougars who hurt Nayeli were actually /after/ Nayeli, at Cheveyo's bidding. It could all be so much worse than that Nayeli was just in the wrong place at the wrong time. Still, Kein watches Ama closely.
He steps closer. An unsual maneuver. Kein isn't usually the one filling the gap. It's always been as close as Ama dared to come to the chieftain. But if this frightens her, it doesn't show. But he isn't threatening her. It's her own imagined... whatever it is. Wait - she remembers! A dream! It was a /dream/ and- but no time for that. The chieftain is speaking of her son. Cheveyo. And while it is good he is well, she senses Kein's... displeasure? A deep frown creases the older cougaress's maw, and her brows furrow more before lifting entirely. He's doing /what/!? Ama's expression reveals surprise and, perhaps on another level, horror. Her son? But she taught him better, didn't she? Why would he...? Her mouth moves to form a disbelieving "No" but she stops herself before any sound can be made. Instead, her brows furrow again, though her gray-green eyes are wide. "W-what?" She was beginning to feel so sure again. Almost. "He-" she searches for words, but can find nothing more eloquent than, "He wouldn't!" No. Not /my/ son. He was unhappy with Amaranth, but he never- and what of Hahnee? Is this why "all is well"?
Her reactions are genuine, sincere. Kein can tell this, and that keeps him where he is, rather than chasing her out of Amaranth. Her assurances that Cheveyo would do no such thing do nothing to calm him, though. After all, she told him something like that once before. He still affords much more trust to Moonseeker than he does to this mother's beliefs about her son... Which doesn't mean that he'll persecute her for those beliefs, necessarily. Of course every parent wants to believe their children will to nothing seriously wrong. And a great many parents, Kein and Ama included, have been wrong. "Are you willing to stake your life on that, Ama? Because I /won't/ risk my family for the blind belief that your son-" And Chesmu's son. "-will do us no harm, not when there has been evidence to the contrary." Even if the only actual 'evidence' is that Moonseeker knew Cheveyo's name. The rest could be a lie, but what are the chances, when combined with that name?
He wouldn't. But that dream - that dream only half-remembered. Cause for her sudden foreboding? She had nearly forgotten it until now. And the things she thought were nothing to worry about - the doubts and the fears - all seem to have rushed back. She breaks her eyes from the chieftain, unable to look at him. That alone is proof enough of her own doubts. Things so well-hidden under most circumstances. Is she willing to believe her son wouldn't? He, the strong-willed son? Her eyes lift, and she forces them to stay up, looking into Kein's if she dares. She knows what happened to Nayeli has affected Kein a great deal. More than ever now than before, he's concerned for his family's safety, of course, but she has never once thought her sons might be associated with... with /that./ Or at least, one son. She's certain Hahnee wouldn't. She believes she can answer certainly in her head, but heart pleads against it, and she can say nothing to assure the chieftain. Her lips part briefly, she steps back. "What is this evidence?" Her voice is heavily burdened.
Kein allows her to increase the distance between them. He does not again step closer to her, but he never allows his eyes to leave her. What is this evidence? "There is a member of this tribe who did not know who you were, but who nonetheless was able to give me your son's name with no prompting. She received the message from one of those who attacked my mate." At least, that is Kein's assumption. Little does he know who actually gave her the message. This particular assumption only comes from the fact that, the last time he had seen Moonseeker, before she gave him this most unpleasant news, she had been on her way to see Malak. Could this be Malak's attempt to shift Kein's anger from Malak and Revan to an innocent cougar? It /could/ be, sure, but... Kein doubts it.
She takes that much with grace, but it pains her. One of the cougars who attacked her tribe-sister? Her son is associating with /one of them/?! It occurs to her she could doubt Kein's words as she doubts other things, but... she believes him. Why would he lie to her? Unless- but no. She won't believe he hates her because she is- was Chesmu's mate. Or any other reason. She keeps her eyes on the chieftain, her tail swaying slowly behind her as she tries to figure this dilemma out. She knows now that, come Spring, she /must/ see her sons. Especially Cheveyo. "I see," she finally whispers, lowers her eyes. No sooner than she does this, she speaks again: "I- I had no idea. I saw him, when winter was coming on. I-" she's defending herself. Would she so easily dismiss her son? No. And she feels shame creeping up on her as she lifts her eyes again, as if looking for some answer to an unspoken and unknown question from Kein.
Does Kein really want to see Cheveyo hurting? Yes. Yes, he really does... Since his mate's injury, he would see anyone who wishes this tribe harm hurting, given the chance. He cannot prove that Cheveyo has /done/ anything in his desire to do the tribe harm, though. "I will give you an opportunity to speak to him, Ama... Rather than searching him out to /speak/ to him myself." In which case there would be very little talking done. "But if I find he has done anything to any member of this tribe, or if he makes any attempt to move on this land... I will not be able to ignore him, Ama." What does that mean? Kein doesn't spell it out. He's sure she can figure it out on her own, and, as a mother, she does not need to hear, outloud, that Kein would do anything necessary to render Cheveyo harmless to the tribe.
She allows a silence to creep up on her, in which her eyes look up widely at the chieftain. Cub-like. But filled with the wisdom that is so peculiar to Ama's quiet nature. Only when the silence seems to draw out too long does her voice break it, "I understand." It's a small, almost child-like voice that escapes her maw. If Cheveyo did- if he... would she defend him, if he tried anything? "I can no longer speak for my son's actions," she finally says, her voice seeming to regain its usual tenor. "I do not like what you are saying," she doesn't want to believe it. "But if- i-if it comes to-" she's certain she knows what Kein means. And she means to say if her son becomes another Chesmu... she'd kill him herself. He knows better. He would be /worse/ than Chesmu. But her sentence is left hanging in a fashion that could be interpreted differently. Perhaps one would think she'd leave Amaranth again. Or perhaps not. "...I will go to him in the spring," she finally whispers, bowing her head gently.
Is there still doubt in Kein about Ama? Some... But not much. She is every bit as upset as he imagines Nayeli would be, should one of their sons do something like this. Every bit as upset as his own mother must have been, in Kein's less shining moments. Will he wait until spring to do anything? Well, no, not exactly, but he at least will not search for Cheveyo until spring, if even then. Finally, Kein takes a deep breath that is meant to be calming. Whether it actually has that effect is anyone's guess. "For what it may be worth, Ama... I am sorry." Kein would have much preferred that Chesmu's sons never created any trouble, and that Ama could live the remainder of her days in peace, and not /only/ for himself and the well-being of his family. That simply isn't the case, though.
He sighs. Ama fights to keep herself from mirroring the gesture. She looks away, her tail stilling itself behind her as her ears lift. She's nowhere near being as upset as she was when she returned from speaking with Hahnee the first time. That may never happen to her again. She hopes not. She never wants to feel that torn again. She's certain she must stay in Amaranth, though. She can attribute that feeling to- a dream? A dream she remembers, but whose details are still shadowed in her memory. His apology brings a half-felt, but genuine smile. It disappears though, leaving only weary eyes in its wake. "And I," she responds softly. "I never intended this. I never-" and she closes her eyes, to prevent her emotions from growing further, "I never /imagined/ this." Can /this/ even be forgiven? If Cheveyo is more like his father than Ama even imagined... what then? Maybe there's no such thing as peace. She opens her eyes, finally allowing a soft sigh. So much for feeling better...
There is a twinge in Kein. It may be something that he has not felt in a long time, but it is there. Compassion. It would be much easier for him to fight it off now than it has been in times past, but... Should he? Ama clearly needs a friend, someone to whom she can speak... But should /he/ be that friend? /Can/ he be? The answers to these questions are not half so easy to find as fighting off his compassion would be, and, finally, he takes another step closer to her... And then sits. "We never want to imagine the worse of our children, Ama... But we cannot blame ourselves for them, either. We can try to help them work past their troubles, but /they/ have to let us." It's remarkably similar to some of what he told Nayeli, but it is, by no means, some cookie-cutter consolation.
Maybe the only peace she will ever find will be when the end comes for her. Sometimes that end seems much too far away. And other times, she wishes she could bring it closer. But her desire to protect all that she has - her sons and... yes, Amaranth - keeps her here. A sense of duty, if you will. The chieftain steps closer, and her eyes lower. She can't find the will to walk away. This isn't finished yet. It is when he seats himself and speaks, when she realizes that even if it is small that his demeanor /has/ changed, that she sits. Unable to stand. He is right, of course. In a sense, they are Ama's thoughts. But they are all she has... those boys. All that's left. If she lost them, would she die with them? She remains silent, allows the younger to lecture the elder. Her brows furrow and, were tears capable of falling down her face, they would. "But I fear for him. I fear he will become his father. If it comes to-" she can't say it. But she would kill him herself. She would.
How many times has Kein feared that he would become his father? How many times did his mother fear the same thing? And how can that help him to try to console Ama, when he so doubts that her son will be reached by anything she could say to him? Perhaps his doubt is simply because of his own fears, but it is very real, all the same. And so, with a little less sincerity, though he /tries/, he says, "Being like his father doesn't make him any less your son, Ama. If anyone can reach him, it is you... And you should give him that opportunity." Had Maulisho given up on Kein, would Kein have turned out more like Azriel? It's entirely possible.
She has confided this in the chieftain. Certainly he fears the same. It has probably been in the forefront of his mind since- but she can't be certain. She stands, but it is a slow movement. Sometimes, she thinks she feels her age... but in a continuation of the motion, she steps a little closer to Kein. She hopes he is right. Her son /must/ listen to her. He /will./ For what little comfort those words offered her, she might've offered any other friend a nuzzle. But she's not so sure with Kein. He is a good chieftain - his words, even if they were difficult and perhaps not entirely heart-felt, could only raise him a little higher in Ama's opinion. She must stay in Amaranth. And she must change her son's mind, lest worse things come to pass. Whatever Cheveyo is planning. For a moment, she looks like she might actually move to touch the chieftain - a kind gesture, a grateful one - but at the last moment she turns from him as if to pad away. She mustn't think of her son right now. Not too hard. And what of Kaya - the next thing on her mind after her own sons... which reminds her. But she should see to the little one's well-being at another time, perhaps.
Does Kein even /want/ that gesture? One day, things between them may return to how they were before, and Kein will have to re-hone his callous demeanor. Will a genuinely friendly gesture between them make that more difficult? He does not back up... But, thankfully, he does not have to worry about it for long. She turns away, and Kein breathes a silent sigh of relief. He does not stop her. He simply watches. It occurs to him to offer her a polite farewell... And yet he does nothing, and not entirely, or even primarily, by choice. This encounter has worn on him as much as anything in the past few weeks, the anger that has again faded into the frustration of being unable to eradicate its source, and it leaves him nearly-frozen, uncertain of what to do to make everything be /right/ again.
Kein - Male Cougar
Ama - Female Cougar
- Pine Grove -
Though he told himself to focus his patrols on the north and east borders, Kein has spent very few hours in the past couple days near those borders. There is a lot of ground to cover in Amaranth, and in addition to his other duties, he is still determined to find Ama quickly... But determination aside, the greater part of his attention is not on his environment. He smells whenever a new breeze comes his way, and he does not look exclusively in front of him, but he is spending a lot of time just thinking, and very little of that thinking is about Ama. After all, he has already reached some conclusions on that matter. There are others that he will have to spend days yet thinking about, and those are what is on his mind now, as light from the sun overhead continues filtering thinly through the thick pine needles on the trees.
She has always been one of the more solitary members of the tribe. Always - but she has been a member of the tribe for as long as - and before - Kein was chieftain. The cougaress is more or less unaware that she has been sought after these past few days and more. Her time has been spent in seclusion since news of Nayeli's recovery has reached her. There has been no need for her to "keep an eye on things" any more. And no need for her to try counseling little Kaya again. It is time now for Ama to come out of hiding however. Winter has come on strongly. Soon enough spring will arrive. In the spring, perhaps she will move to visit her sons again. But perhaps that would not be wise. She has nearly recovered from most of her emotions. Doubts still haunt her at times, but... nothing she can't live with. As she pads under the pine boughs, she catches a faint whiff of... she knows that scent. Kein. Ama doesn't alter her course to avoid her chieftain, rather, she stops what she's doing and settles quietly onto her haunches, as if she were waiting. Waiting for what?
Or maybe she will be pressed to visit her sons even before spring arrives. It is funny, Kein tells himself, briefly, as the faintest hint of Ama's scent catches his attention. Just a few weeks ago, he had to warn himself against being too compassionate with Ama. Now, he has to warn himself against violence. Even if she is guilty of everything he thinks she is, she has not earned any violence from the Chieftain... But she'll have most definitely earned her eviction. Finally, Kein passes the last tree that blocked Ama from his vision, and he stops walking abruptly to just look at her. And smell. Wherever she has been, since he has last seen her, it was not with her sons. There is none of their scent on her... Which means nothing in particular, but it helps him to remain calm. "Ama." There are no pretenses at politeness, but he at least gives her a chance to acknowledge his presence before he launches into the reason why he has been searching for her.
The chieftain... and uncertainty. It's strange - a deep feeling of foreboding has passed over Ama even as she seats herself. She means to rise and, perhaps, go to the lake. It is a peaceful there. But even as she does so, the chieftain himself appears between the trees. And she notices that he seems ... "better." Compared to the last time she met him. And yet, he greets her in a fashion that does not suggest recovery. Foreboding indeed. The cougaress rises slowly, padding close enough that she needn't raise her voice, her eyes locked on the chieftain. "Good afternoon, Chieftain," she greets him cordially - as she usually does - but her brows furrow slightly as if with concern. She keeps herself from asking about his or Nayeli's condition. Something seems to be awry.
The way she greets him, so... Normally... It would be so easy for Kein to take all of the rage that should be directed at those who attacked Nayeli and Cael, transfer it to Ama, and then tear into her for what must be an implication that he is stupid, inept. Does she really think, still, that he would never find out until it was too late... Or does she really not know? It is that chance, however slim he may view it, that remains that forces him to bite back the anger, to remain outwardly calm. "I have news of your son. Cheveyo." He says the name with venom in his tone, as though the son of Ama who he has never met represents to him all that he hates, every force that threatens to tear apart his family and this tribe. Will she continue to be so casual with him, and thus buy herself some small amount of trust, or in the face of what he must know, will she come clean and beg for the mercy that Kein is finding in very short supply ever since his mate was attacked? He watches her closely, not only listening for what she might say, but observing her for any hints that she might be lying.
No, no. Something isn't right at all. But she can't place it. What has happened? She believed all was well. Is that not the message she was given just over a week ago? Perhaps a little longer... but still. She thought things would be all right. It put her at ease. But this doesn't seem right at all. And the way he speaks- her ears go back. Defensively. Worriedly. She knows the emotion in his voice is negative. But she can't help but feel worry - a mother's worry - and it shows blatantly on her face. She blinks, her tail curling behind her. "Yes? What is it, Chieftain? Is my son well?" She hopes so. But... that must have been a dumb thing to ask. "Is something wrong?" A small tremor in her heart. Yes, a small voice whispers. Yes. Something is wrong. And in the back of her mind she tries to remember something she heard. A reason for this foreboding... but she can only remember the moon and... something. What is that something?
Yes. 'All is well.' What /did/ that message that he unwittingly passed onto Ama mean? Taking a step closer to the female, though he does not growl or do anything else that could be construed as threatening, Kein says, "Oh, I'm sure your son is quite well. He is well enough to plot against my family. Well enough that he can try to convince other cougars to do the same." And if Kein were to have his way, Cheveyo would not remain 'well enough' for very long. It is only that he has smelled Cheveyo nowhere near his home that has kept him from directly confronting Ama's other-son himself. How long will that distance keep him from doing something? Maybe not long at all, since the source of his information leads him to believe that Cheveyo has had some success. For all Kein knows, the cougars who hurt Nayeli were actually /after/ Nayeli, at Cheveyo's bidding. It could all be so much worse than that Nayeli was just in the wrong place at the wrong time. Still, Kein watches Ama closely.
He steps closer. An unsual maneuver. Kein isn't usually the one filling the gap. It's always been as close as Ama dared to come to the chieftain. But if this frightens her, it doesn't show. But he isn't threatening her. It's her own imagined... whatever it is. Wait - she remembers! A dream! It was a /dream/ and- but no time for that. The chieftain is speaking of her son. Cheveyo. And while it is good he is well, she senses Kein's... displeasure? A deep frown creases the older cougaress's maw, and her brows furrow more before lifting entirely. He's doing /what/!? Ama's expression reveals surprise and, perhaps on another level, horror. Her son? But she taught him better, didn't she? Why would he...? Her mouth moves to form a disbelieving "No" but she stops herself before any sound can be made. Instead, her brows furrow again, though her gray-green eyes are wide. "W-what?" She was beginning to feel so sure again. Almost. "He-" she searches for words, but can find nothing more eloquent than, "He wouldn't!" No. Not /my/ son. He was unhappy with Amaranth, but he never- and what of Hahnee? Is this why "all is well"?
Her reactions are genuine, sincere. Kein can tell this, and that keeps him where he is, rather than chasing her out of Amaranth. Her assurances that Cheveyo would do no such thing do nothing to calm him, though. After all, she told him something like that once before. He still affords much more trust to Moonseeker than he does to this mother's beliefs about her son... Which doesn't mean that he'll persecute her for those beliefs, necessarily. Of course every parent wants to believe their children will to nothing seriously wrong. And a great many parents, Kein and Ama included, have been wrong. "Are you willing to stake your life on that, Ama? Because I /won't/ risk my family for the blind belief that your son-" And Chesmu's son. "-will do us no harm, not when there has been evidence to the contrary." Even if the only actual 'evidence' is that Moonseeker knew Cheveyo's name. The rest could be a lie, but what are the chances, when combined with that name?
He wouldn't. But that dream - that dream only half-remembered. Cause for her sudden foreboding? She had nearly forgotten it until now. And the things she thought were nothing to worry about - the doubts and the fears - all seem to have rushed back. She breaks her eyes from the chieftain, unable to look at him. That alone is proof enough of her own doubts. Things so well-hidden under most circumstances. Is she willing to believe her son wouldn't? He, the strong-willed son? Her eyes lift, and she forces them to stay up, looking into Kein's if she dares. She knows what happened to Nayeli has affected Kein a great deal. More than ever now than before, he's concerned for his family's safety, of course, but she has never once thought her sons might be associated with... with /that./ Or at least, one son. She's certain Hahnee wouldn't. She believes she can answer certainly in her head, but heart pleads against it, and she can say nothing to assure the chieftain. Her lips part briefly, she steps back. "What is this evidence?" Her voice is heavily burdened.
Kein allows her to increase the distance between them. He does not again step closer to her, but he never allows his eyes to leave her. What is this evidence? "There is a member of this tribe who did not know who you were, but who nonetheless was able to give me your son's name with no prompting. She received the message from one of those who attacked my mate." At least, that is Kein's assumption. Little does he know who actually gave her the message. This particular assumption only comes from the fact that, the last time he had seen Moonseeker, before she gave him this most unpleasant news, she had been on her way to see Malak. Could this be Malak's attempt to shift Kein's anger from Malak and Revan to an innocent cougar? It /could/ be, sure, but... Kein doubts it.
She takes that much with grace, but it pains her. One of the cougars who attacked her tribe-sister? Her son is associating with /one of them/?! It occurs to her she could doubt Kein's words as she doubts other things, but... she believes him. Why would he lie to her? Unless- but no. She won't believe he hates her because she is- was Chesmu's mate. Or any other reason. She keeps her eyes on the chieftain, her tail swaying slowly behind her as she tries to figure this dilemma out. She knows now that, come Spring, she /must/ see her sons. Especially Cheveyo. "I see," she finally whispers, lowers her eyes. No sooner than she does this, she speaks again: "I- I had no idea. I saw him, when winter was coming on. I-" she's defending herself. Would she so easily dismiss her son? No. And she feels shame creeping up on her as she lifts her eyes again, as if looking for some answer to an unspoken and unknown question from Kein.
Does Kein really want to see Cheveyo hurting? Yes. Yes, he really does... Since his mate's injury, he would see anyone who wishes this tribe harm hurting, given the chance. He cannot prove that Cheveyo has /done/ anything in his desire to do the tribe harm, though. "I will give you an opportunity to speak to him, Ama... Rather than searching him out to /speak/ to him myself." In which case there would be very little talking done. "But if I find he has done anything to any member of this tribe, or if he makes any attempt to move on this land... I will not be able to ignore him, Ama." What does that mean? Kein doesn't spell it out. He's sure she can figure it out on her own, and, as a mother, she does not need to hear, outloud, that Kein would do anything necessary to render Cheveyo harmless to the tribe.
She allows a silence to creep up on her, in which her eyes look up widely at the chieftain. Cub-like. But filled with the wisdom that is so peculiar to Ama's quiet nature. Only when the silence seems to draw out too long does her voice break it, "I understand." It's a small, almost child-like voice that escapes her maw. If Cheveyo did- if he... would she defend him, if he tried anything? "I can no longer speak for my son's actions," she finally says, her voice seeming to regain its usual tenor. "I do not like what you are saying," she doesn't want to believe it. "But if- i-if it comes to-" she's certain she knows what Kein means. And she means to say if her son becomes another Chesmu... she'd kill him herself. He knows better. He would be /worse/ than Chesmu. But her sentence is left hanging in a fashion that could be interpreted differently. Perhaps one would think she'd leave Amaranth again. Or perhaps not. "...I will go to him in the spring," she finally whispers, bowing her head gently.
Is there still doubt in Kein about Ama? Some... But not much. She is every bit as upset as he imagines Nayeli would be, should one of their sons do something like this. Every bit as upset as his own mother must have been, in Kein's less shining moments. Will he wait until spring to do anything? Well, no, not exactly, but he at least will not search for Cheveyo until spring, if even then. Finally, Kein takes a deep breath that is meant to be calming. Whether it actually has that effect is anyone's guess. "For what it may be worth, Ama... I am sorry." Kein would have much preferred that Chesmu's sons never created any trouble, and that Ama could live the remainder of her days in peace, and not /only/ for himself and the well-being of his family. That simply isn't the case, though.
He sighs. Ama fights to keep herself from mirroring the gesture. She looks away, her tail stilling itself behind her as her ears lift. She's nowhere near being as upset as she was when she returned from speaking with Hahnee the first time. That may never happen to her again. She hopes not. She never wants to feel that torn again. She's certain she must stay in Amaranth, though. She can attribute that feeling to- a dream? A dream she remembers, but whose details are still shadowed in her memory. His apology brings a half-felt, but genuine smile. It disappears though, leaving only weary eyes in its wake. "And I," she responds softly. "I never intended this. I never-" and she closes her eyes, to prevent her emotions from growing further, "I never /imagined/ this." Can /this/ even be forgiven? If Cheveyo is more like his father than Ama even imagined... what then? Maybe there's no such thing as peace. She opens her eyes, finally allowing a soft sigh. So much for feeling better...
There is a twinge in Kein. It may be something that he has not felt in a long time, but it is there. Compassion. It would be much easier for him to fight it off now than it has been in times past, but... Should he? Ama clearly needs a friend, someone to whom she can speak... But should /he/ be that friend? /Can/ he be? The answers to these questions are not half so easy to find as fighting off his compassion would be, and, finally, he takes another step closer to her... And then sits. "We never want to imagine the worse of our children, Ama... But we cannot blame ourselves for them, either. We can try to help them work past their troubles, but /they/ have to let us." It's remarkably similar to some of what he told Nayeli, but it is, by no means, some cookie-cutter consolation.
Maybe the only peace she will ever find will be when the end comes for her. Sometimes that end seems much too far away. And other times, she wishes she could bring it closer. But her desire to protect all that she has - her sons and... yes, Amaranth - keeps her here. A sense of duty, if you will. The chieftain steps closer, and her eyes lower. She can't find the will to walk away. This isn't finished yet. It is when he seats himself and speaks, when she realizes that even if it is small that his demeanor /has/ changed, that she sits. Unable to stand. He is right, of course. In a sense, they are Ama's thoughts. But they are all she has... those boys. All that's left. If she lost them, would she die with them? She remains silent, allows the younger to lecture the elder. Her brows furrow and, were tears capable of falling down her face, they would. "But I fear for him. I fear he will become his father. If it comes to-" she can't say it. But she would kill him herself. She would.
How many times has Kein feared that he would become his father? How many times did his mother fear the same thing? And how can that help him to try to console Ama, when he so doubts that her son will be reached by anything she could say to him? Perhaps his doubt is simply because of his own fears, but it is very real, all the same. And so, with a little less sincerity, though he /tries/, he says, "Being like his father doesn't make him any less your son, Ama. If anyone can reach him, it is you... And you should give him that opportunity." Had Maulisho given up on Kein, would Kein have turned out more like Azriel? It's entirely possible.
She has confided this in the chieftain. Certainly he fears the same. It has probably been in the forefront of his mind since- but she can't be certain. She stands, but it is a slow movement. Sometimes, she thinks she feels her age... but in a continuation of the motion, she steps a little closer to Kein. She hopes he is right. Her son /must/ listen to her. He /will./ For what little comfort those words offered her, she might've offered any other friend a nuzzle. But she's not so sure with Kein. He is a good chieftain - his words, even if they were difficult and perhaps not entirely heart-felt, could only raise him a little higher in Ama's opinion. She must stay in Amaranth. And she must change her son's mind, lest worse things come to pass. Whatever Cheveyo is planning. For a moment, she looks like she might actually move to touch the chieftain - a kind gesture, a grateful one - but at the last moment she turns from him as if to pad away. She mustn't think of her son right now. Not too hard. And what of Kaya - the next thing on her mind after her own sons... which reminds her. But she should see to the little one's well-being at another time, perhaps.
Does Kein even /want/ that gesture? One day, things between them may return to how they were before, and Kein will have to re-hone his callous demeanor. Will a genuinely friendly gesture between them make that more difficult? He does not back up... But, thankfully, he does not have to worry about it for long. She turns away, and Kein breathes a silent sigh of relief. He does not stop her. He simply watches. It occurs to him to offer her a polite farewell... And yet he does nothing, and not entirely, or even primarily, by choice. This encounter has worn on him as much as anything in the past few weeks, the anger that has again faded into the frustration of being unable to eradicate its source, and it leaves him nearly-frozen, uncertain of what to do to make everything be /right/ again.