[Home RP] Tell me right and tell me true

He first caught her eye at the tournament.

There’s a tournament held every year in her pack. In truth, it wasn’t so much a tournament as a chance for her cousin Ragnar to show off his sparring prowess to a crowd of "adoring fans" as he so liked to put it. Raynar loved her cousin, she really did. But that smug shit-eating grin, that cocky as hell way he holds his head up, that bloated ego for the ensuing weeks? Urgh. She could really do without it all. Ragnar you bastard. She couldn’t wait for one of her younger cousins to finally hit their growth spurt and wipe that smirk off his curly haired face. She would do it herself, how great it’d feel when she sent the Gazal/Jaro mix face first into the ground like when they were kids, but it was “unbecoming” of a noble lady to participate in such horseplay. Tch.

As it turned out, she didn’t need to wait very long to see her cousin defeated.

A week before the Tourney, her father, King Agnarr, hired a pair of hunters to take care of a small bear problem on the border of their territory.

In truth, her first opinion of him had been superficial. It was shallow of her, sure, but Raynar had to admit, the new male was kind of cute (it was the ears really. The giant bat ears were rather endearing). Of course, cute was nowhere near enough to earn more than a sideways glance from her, no matter how classically handsome one may be, so she didn't pay him much more attention.

Eager for a new competitor, King Agnarr had suggested Lady Drifa sign her son up for some friendly sparring. Raynar remembered the way Drifa had laughed and politely declined. Agnarr had chuckled, but the woman’s words that came next had him booming with laughter. “It wouldn’t be fair your Highness. My son doesn’t hold back, your warriors might get hurt.” In truth, Raynar had laughed too. The sheer confidence in the Royale’s voice, her delivery, it had to have been a joke. King Agnarr had strayed a glance at the boy in question. The blue male, about the same age as his daughter, had been ignoring the conversation, busying himself with chewing on some dried bear meat. He had the table manners of a particularly hungry child, and that seemed to make the moment all the more comedic.

King Agnarr had turned to Drifa, the old Gazal shaking his greying muzzle and smiling. “Don’t you worry about your son milady, it’s all in the name of fun. The boy’ll be fine.”

Raynar still remembered the way Drifa had smirked. She’d tilted her head to the left, let the light reflect off the purple diamond on her cheek as she said in her smooth voice, “Oh, you misunderstand me your Majesty. I wasn’t joking. My son can defeat all your warriors, but I’m afraid he was never taught to hold back. If you wish to spar with him, please, only challenge him with your most accomplished and experienced warriors.”

Raynar had broken character as the polite princess and scoffed so loudly even the newcomer stopped his eating to glance at her.

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Lady Drifa hadn’t been lying. The boy did not know how to hold back.

The first fight had been over in a matter of seconds. Her cousin Jahar, much smaller than his challenger, had lunged as his opening move. The challenger caught him mid leap and sunk his jaws into Jahar’s chest, slamming him into the ground . The smaller male’s head hit the hard dirt and he was out.

There was a loud tsk to the side of her as Lady Drifa shouted down at the fighting pit. She immediately apologised to King Agnarr, calling for a healer immediately. Raynar wasn’t sure why at first, knockouts were common in intense spars, but she soon spotted the flecks of blood against Jahar’s ribs. The wounds weren’t deep, but they were wounds none the less. Any other contestant would have been immediately disqualified but King Agnarr decided to give the boy a second chance. 
Thankfully the next few spars were easier, the challenger seemingly picking up on how much force was appropriate to use.

None of the fights were quiet. There was the constant barking of orders, Lady Drifa reminding her son to “Ease up, don’t let them bleed honey. Easy there Dalkr, don’t break his bones,” and so on and so forth. The boy never said a word. Not even as her cousins jabbed and tried to engage him in banter (and oh, did her cousins love banter), his eyes remaining trained on their stance and form.

It was the most entertaining Tourney she’d been spectator to in such a long time. For once, Raynar found herself fixated on the fights, seeing this foreign fighting style, the brutality behind moves she could tell would have killed if enough force was given. The smarter warriors fared longer than those that relied on pure strength, those that knew they could out speed or manoeuvre him, but the smart warriors tended to be older and couldn't match his stamina. And Dalkr was larger than most so the dumber ones couldn’t match his strength.

When it came time for Dalkr v Ragnar, she glued herself to the scene. Ragnar was the rare combination of strength and smarts (as much as she hated to admit it) and he stood equal in height to the Royale mix. Despite the previous fights, Ragnar did his usual routine. He laughed and mocked, showing off to the crowd and charming the females with his curly locked ear flick. Mid-sentence, Dalkr had chomped down on Ragnar’s muzzle, swung a paw forward to sweep the black and white male off his feet and flipped him onto his back.

Raynar had laughed. She’d laughed so loudly she had to excuse herself from the grandstands.

When she met up with Ragnar the next day, her laughing fit came back with a vengeance. Apparently Ragnar had bitten his tongue. He talked like that for a whole week.

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Dalkr completely ignored her attempts at flirting.

Truth be told, Raynar was rather offended. Not that she believed herself the prettiest dog in the world, from what she had heard her mother had been exceptionally beautiful but unfortunately she’d inherited her father’s… rough edges… but she’d never considered herself ugly before. But that was the only conclusion she could draw from Dalkr’s reactions. He shied away as if her presence was an offence to the gods. She could’ve sworn he’d yelped when she’d winked at him that one time, scrabbling away as if she’d just put a curse on him and his family for many generations to come.  She’d been snuffed before, but not to this degree.

It was a huge blow to her confidence in all honesty.

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Raynar knew that eavesdropping was rude. In most cases, she never did it, such petty crimes were beneath her. But today, she couldn’t help it. Her curiosity was too great. What could she have possibly have done to make Dalkr dislike her so much? Did he simply just find her that repulsive?

“She keeps looking at me.”

“What was that dear?”

“The girl. Looking.”

Sounds of whining and movement. She assumed he was indicating to her, she couldn’t see them. Her back was turned towards them. Raynar pretended not to hear, continued munching on her leg of mountain goat. The two of them were whispering but she’d always had particularly strong hearing.

“Who wouldn’t want to look at you my handsome boy?” Drifa chuckled. A pause. Shuffling.

“I don’t. Like it.” Click of teeth.

“Stop that.” Silence. “I know you don’t Sweet. Just put up with it, she likes you Dear.”

Sound of surprise? A scoff? Raynar couldn’t tell. “Why?”

Another low chuckle. A wet sound (a kiss?). “What’s wrong Honey? You think she’s pretty don’t you?”

“Yes.” The lack of hesitation almost made her choke on her meal.

“Then what’s the problem?”

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“You must be joking.”

Raynar could do nothing but laugh. Ha! Hahaha!

“Daddy, why would you think I’d ever agree to something like that?!” She injected venom into her words, emphasised the ever in her line. This… this had to be a joke. Had someone killed her father and replaced him with a crazy replica? In all her life, her father had never approved of any of the males she’d had flings with. From the handsome loners to the charming Alpha’s sons, her father had disapproved of them all, even those of high ranked birth. And now he was playing matchmaker?! With a Hired Fang of all things?!

“I’m growing old Raynar. I don’t want my line to die with you.”

She stomped her paw, glared daggers into him. “And what was wrong with Alpha Svein’s son?!”

“He was rank ambitious swine that’s what! He cared nothing for you, just wanted the rank of King!" her fathered growled in frustration, fighting back with equal toxicity.

“And what makes this marriage so different?!”

“This isn’t a marriage.”

Raynar sputtered. “Wh…?”

“You need only bear an heir. He’ll be gone before they’re even born, you don’t need to spend the rest of your life with him. After they’re born, go marry whomever you wish.”

She wasn’t sure how to process that information. Raynar opened her mouth to speak but found no words forming.

“Please Raynar. I would like to see my grandchildren before I die.”

This was ridiculous. Utterly ridiculous! 
But… but the more she thought about it. She’d always wanted pups, little children of her own. And the freedom to choose who she spent the rest of her life with? Not many princesses had that choice. She knew more than her fair share of loveless mates.

“Has Dalkr agreed to this?”

“I’ve spoken with his mother-“

“Has he agreed to this.”

“I haven’t spoken with-“

“Let me talk with him.”

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“Well this is awkward.” She thought the small bit of humour would break the tension. It didn’t, but it was worth the shot.

“Why?” There’s that kicked puppy look he’d given her when she’d tried flirting with him.

“What do you mean why?” She cocked a brow at him.

A nervous lip lick. “Why is this awkward?”

“Well ‘cause. You know…?”

“No.”

She raised her brow so high she was worried it’d float off her face. “I mean, this whole thing… you don’t have any questions? You’re not angry? Something?” She met his gaze, which he immediately dropped. She’d tried that a couple times. He refused to meet eye contact with her, refused to let her so much as poke him. As if simply touching her would burn his skin. How on Earth were they ever going to..

“Do you dislike me?”

“Wh-“ she scoffed. Or maybe that was a laugh. She made a noise. “Wh… No. No! Whatever made you think that? No, I, I thought you hated me?!”

He flinched when she’d raised her voice. “No. I don’t. Why does it have to be awkward?”

“Because!” Well… She didn’t have an answer. In a weird way it made sense. She didn’t know how but…

She glanced up to find him still looking in her general direction. God, he was still waiting for a her to give him some completely logical answer. “No. I guess it doesn’t have to be awkward huh?”

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Dalkr was surprisingly good company.

Raynar realized soon enough that what she’d thought was dislike of her in particular actually extended to… pretty much everyone. Well, no, that wasn’t exactly right. He didn’t dislike the person themselves, he just seemed to heavily dislike people staring at him. And that was unavoidable, what with him being a tall, hulking mass of muscle and frowns. She’d jokingly asked Drifa about why Dalkr looked so miserable all the time and was laughingly informed he was born into the world with that sullen looking face. For a second, she feared for the happiness of her own children.

He wasn’t the chattiest dog but he was surprisingly expressive. Raynar quickly picked up whenever he was uncomfortable with a situation. He got this, look. And he whined, like an anxious pup. There was one time he’d unsheathed his knife and given Raynar a small heart attack, thinking he was about to attack someone, but he sat there, quietly, chewing on the handle and staring off at something in the distance. He did that a few times actually. 

More importantly though, she figured out when he was happy. In truth, for the first few weeks she never did see him smile. But he’d soften ever so slightly when they were alone, as if not having to deal with other people was a huge relief. No, no wait, no ‘as if’. That was definitely the point.

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The first time they went hunting together, just the two of them, she honest to the gods saw him wag his tail. They’d made a challenge of it. First to make a kill doesn’t have to lug anything back home. Knowing the lands better than him, naturally she snagged a rabbit in the first hour. She did her usual victory dance; circling him with a hop, skip and a prance. He watched with a front paw raised, confused but not disliking her display of happiness. She took a guess, thinking maybe he wanted to join her.

“Come on big guy, you can dance can’t you?”

A shake of his head.

Sounds about right. “Okay then. Come on, copy me.”

He was agile for his size. It must’ve been all that fighting knowledge crammed into his skull because he replicated her steps almost perfectly; one step, two steps, criss cross, a skip. Hop, step, jump, slide back. His steps were a little stiff and awkward, and of course he didn’t have nearly as much grace as her, but it was amusing to watch nonetheless.

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It’s been two months since Dalkr and his mother arrived. When he’s not with his mother, Dalkr’s glued to her side. Which is all fine and good. She misses being able to rough house with her cousins- he'd snapped at Ragnar once when the Gazal cross had tried to tackle her from behind- but he chills out at her say so.

As expected, they took care of the bear problem fairly quickly. Raynar had a pretty new coat of silver to show for it. Dalkr had skipped, skipped (Oh, they grow up so fast) when he presented her with her new present. Not wanting to disappoint him, she put it on straight away. She doesn't even complain about the blood.

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When the night comes when they must consummate the deal, it’s not a chore. She’s well and truly in love.

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“They’re your children too, you know?” Raynar smiled, turning her muzzle up towards the night sky and pawing at a random cluster of stars. The male beside her shifted on his bed of grass, following her gaze up towards the glimmering dots. She turned her head slowly to gaze at the Royale cross, resting the side of her head on her right ear and watching as his expression changed- as his brows creased in hard concentration.

“Children belong to their mothers,” Dalkr said slowly, carefully. He sounded rather sure of himself.  The gazal raised a brow, continuing to watch him.

“Well, mothers do the bulk of the raising, yes. Most of it really. Pretty much all of it,” she joked, before continuing. “But it takes two to dance, don’cha think?” She watched in amusement at how his brow was raising. She could practically hear him mulling over her words.

“No. You can dance alone.”

“Oh no, baby that’s not what I mean, I don’t mean literal dancing,” she giggled, baring her teeth in a wide grin. She could tell by the look on his face the male didn’t quite get it. That was fine. She liked that about him. He was open and easy to read. He never tried to play her. He said what he meant and he meant what he said.

Rolling over onto her stomach, taking extra care, she shook out her neck, cocking her head to one side as she glanced down at him. “No but really. These pups have your blood, they’re yours too. You have every right to be there when they’re born,” she explained, slowly so there was no way he could misinterpret her words. 
“Why don’t you stay here?”

The rustle of grass as Dalkr quickly flipped over onto his stomach, meeting her eyes (well, a little to the left of her gaze really) with what was undoubtedly shock. “That wasn’t the deal.”

“Yes I know that wasn’t the deal,” the Gazal huffed, inhaling deeply as she thought over how to put this. “But why not? You won’t be a King but a Queen’s consort holds some rank. As father to the heir you’ll be deeply respected. And my father has no problem with you staying, I know he won’t be. You’re not the ambitious type, and he likes you. And your mother will have a safe pack to grow old with-“

“I can’t.” That low whine Raynar had come to learn was one of frustration whenever he couldn’t put his thoughts into words. The grinding of his teeth would come next. He only ever did that when Drifa wasn’t around. “The deal-“

“I know what the deal was.” She took a step forward and forced him to look her in the eyes. For just a second she could make out the flecks of hazel outlining blue before he dropped his gaze, sinking ever so slightly lower into the grass. She felt a twinge at this. But she needed an answer. “Forget the deal. Tell me right and tell me true. Do you want to see your children?”

“Yes.”

The immediacy of his answer surprised her. Enough so that she wondered maybe she’d been too forceful and he’d compensated by saying whatever he thought was the right answer. He tends to do that. She took a breath, and repeated her question. There was a pause as he thought it over this time, but again he looked up.

“Yes.” And she knew he wasn’t lying. Because he wouldn’t lie, couldn’t, honestly. Not to her.

“But you won’t join my pack?” A nod. She turned away from him a moment to think. She’d been considering this a long time. She loved her pack and her family but…

“What about… what if I came with you?” Now there was a new face. That permanent scowl Dalkr usually had scribbled across his face softened significantly in surprise. He hadn’t seen that coming.

“I-“ he stumbled over the first word. There a grumble as he tried to pick words from thin air and force them into a coherent sentence. “You- I…”

“I’m serious. Don’t worry about my father, he’ll just make my uncle his heir. Or my cousins. He’s got plenty of strong males to choose from, he’s just a stubborn old bastard.”

“… His mother and father were wed-“

“Yes I know, he’s not a literal bastard, that’s not my point.” She found herself light on her toes, skipping around him playfully. “But think about it. I won’t be much trouble, at least not once the pups are born. I’m a quick learner, I can help you out. Your mother’s getting old, I can look after her while you’re out working and vice versa.” The more she thought about it, the more excited she grew. Raynar had always wanted to see the lands beyond her territory. She’d met many a traveller, heard many a tale. Lady Drifa herself was a wonderful storyteller where her son had been lacking and her stories alone were enough to fuel Raynar’s longing for travel. And she could hold her own. Her cousins didn’t want to admit it but she knew a thing or two about putting a bigger opponent in their place. “Think about it Dalkr.”

The immediate silence after her words was almost deafening. She could see his expressions changing, and for the first time in months she couldn’t read them. He shook out his neck, twitched an ear, ran his tongue along the scar on the left side of his lip. She even began to count the seconds, knowing he’d probably never been offered something like this in his life.

Finally he answered. “I’ll talk to my mother.”

And she knew that was a yes from him. Ever the mama’s boy, but she knew what he wanted. Drifa would see to reason. She was sweet and motherly, she’d understand the need for a mother to be near her mate, she just had to.

“Thank you. Dalkr thank you,” she beamed, feeling the pinpricks of tears at the corners of her eyes as the weight was lifted from her heart. “Thank you, thank you, thank you.” She bent forward, licking his cheek. He flinched, he always did, but he didn’t back away, leaning into the touch.

“Alright now big boy. Enough of this, let’s race. I’ll even go easy on ya this time!”

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“Ragnar! Cuz!” She sprinted over to the black and white form of her cousin, skidding to a halt and sending a small dust cloud in his face. She nodded quickly in apology as the larger male sneezed, flicking his curled tail in annoyance.

“Have you seen Dalkr or Drifa anywhere? They’re not in their dens,” she panted. She’d been out on patrol for all of the morning until midday. A little punishment for neglecting her duties as inventory checker (really? Was that job really that urgent?) to quote unquote, “go gallivanting all night with Prince not-so-good-at-charming”. Gees, you’d think people would go a bit easier on the pregnant chick.

“Aw geez, you weren’t here were you?”

“Obviously not,” she deadpanned, sweeping her tail over the ground. She gave the male a look of annoyance. “No but really, where are they, what happened?”

“You really missed out on a scene Ray-Ray.” There was an exaggerated wince from the male as he continued to delay the story. “Sweet ol’ grandma Drifa flipped her shit.” He made some grand gesture with his paws, one that apparently needed the use of both paws for. “I mean seriously. You know how my ma gets when Rikki lets the pups wreak havoc on the den? Times that by at least ten. It was a bloody mess!” He vaguely pointed over to a spot by a tree, waving his paw around as if the emphasise the point. “Literally. See for yourself.”

She felt her heart skip a beat. With her head low she padded over to the tree. A few dark drops dotted the ground, dry by now but unmistakable. For whatever reason, she found her paw touching one of them.

“I’m tellin’ ya Ray-Ray. If someone treated me like that, tch, I don’t care if it was my mother, I wouldn’t take that kind of abuse. Damn near bit his face off. They left a couple hours ago.”

She patted the ground again with a paw, ran a pad over the dried blood spot. Why did she feel so cold all of a sudden? She traced the outline with a claw.

“R, Ray. Hey, what’s wrong, are you alright?”

What was he talking about? She tried to drown out his voice but soon realised what he was talking about. A droplet of wet slid down her nose, turning the ground wet where it intermingled with the blood. When had she started crying?

“Sh, shit, you actually cared about him, didn’t you? He wasn’t just-“

“Ragnar, I need to be alone.”

The male grew silent. He butted his head against her shoulder, before turning to walk away. “Ray, I’m sorry.”

She said nothing. Just waited until his footsteps disappeared and she was alone, before curling up on the ground and letting her sorrow consume her in dry heaves.

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Wooo this was fun. Incoming "Drifa you BITCH" comments
Dalkr's pose gave me hell god damn you bulky bastard.
I have no idea what colour Raynar is, but her breed is Saudi Gazal (father was a short haired thin type, mother was a feathered thick type).  

Dalkr and Raynar (c) Me