Hello! Sorry for the wait; between being absolutely swamped at work and feeling no inspiration, this took a while to shape up how I wanted it to. As always, I promise I'm still here!
"This is a step forward." Peaches wasn't sure who she was even reassuring anymore, herself or Julian. She thrust the rock forward, watching it slide in a near-perfect line to her waiting husband's stick. He missed by a mile.
She offered a sympathetic smile, but Julian just looked up at her and grinned like she was the coolest wife in the world. "Okay, now I'll send it back to you."
She watched as he crouched down, sticking his butt in the air and contorting his trunk painfully to make the stick and the rock eye level. A too-quick jab sent the rock skittering toward her before it abruptly slowed and stopped a few feet away. Julian straightened up, shimmying a little to keep his balance. "Of course this is a step forward! We know where Buck is coming and going from. That's more than anyone else has figured out up until now. There's gotta be something we can do about it."
Peaches sighed to herself, already on the cusp of wanting to point out, again, that he was the one who'd done it. They'd helped, but he'd been the one to actually notice anything amiss. Instead, she settled for, "We need Uncle Crash and Uncle Eddie." An absentminded whack of the stick and the rock went back to him.
"Possums are everywhere, remember? We have an entire territory full of animals at home we can ask for help. Maybe we'll even find more of your long-lost family!" With that cheeky revelation, Julian smiled and with a swift motion, brought his stick downward and slammed it into the rock with so much force it went airborne.
It was easy to step out of the way, not quite as easy to keep from laughing as Julian lost his balance and ended up sprawled on the ice, his stick slowly sliding away from him. His wide-eyed surprise was all it took to bring on a flood of giggling. "You tried babe; you really did."
He just frowned in his usual way—the one that seemed just a little bit awkward from disuse— and stared up at her mournfully. "Thanks."
She covered up the next wave of laughter by tossing her stick to the side and shuffling toward him. "I think I'm good on new family members. Getting Diego to like me enough to keep me around after all of this is enough of a challenge for now."
"He never actually wanted us to go," Julian pointed out, already hauling himself up before Peaches could make it all the way over to help. "And my family is a bust. It's not like my brother could fit down there either…"
Peaches slipped to a stop a few feet from him. "You're…brother?
"Yeah, my older brother, Jared. I…uh…" He finished regaining his feet and started brushing loose powder off his front legs, "We didn't have the best relationship."
Peaches could feel herself nodding, too panicked to do anything else, and silently hoped he'd go on. Her brain felt like it was melting. Julian was talking about his family. Julian never talked about his family. Julian was talking about his family.
"I just meant…cuz…we were talking about family being unable to fit down there, and…" he trailed off with a despondent flick of his trunk.
"Of course!" her voice was too loud in her ears, "That's…how I took it."
Julian looked up at her then, and they stared at each other for a very long two seconds. All the half-formed conversations and weird looks he'd been giving the last few days seemed to wait between them, and Peaches realized this was what had been bothering him: his family. Peaches hadn't even thought to consider them since the entirety of the information she had so far was that he'd wanted to go roaming, his family didn't, so he'd struck out on his own. Now, she wasn't sure if not guessing made her insensitive or just naïve. Did Julian need to talk about this but she'd been so wrapped up in Buck and connecting with her own new family members that she'd completely missed it?
And now that she'd thought of it that way, of course that was the case. She had an abundance of new animals around her and Julian didn't. He probably felt left out and sad, and what was wrong with her?
"I know I haven't been…talkative when it comes to them," Julian was saying before she could start stumbling through an apology. "And it's not because of you! I just…I…"
"It's just hard." Peaches forced out, hoping it as the right thing to say and slightly reassured when Julian nodded instead of immediately running away. "Julian—babe—you can say whatever you want about this. Whenever you want."
A worryingly long pause followed her words before Julian finally said, "I…guess I don't really know what… I mean, I don't know how to talk about them sometimes."
"Of course. Relationships…family is really complicated. Talking about them is complicated." It had been for Dad when she'd finally been old enough to understand that she had a half-sibling, that her mommy wasn't this other child's mommy. He'd had a family and a life before them and then those humans had destroyed it… She remembered the grief and almost confusion in his eyes when he'd been deciding word by word how he wanted to tell this story. The echoes of that stress stared back at her from Julian's face now.
"Yeah." Her husband nodded vigorously, as if that had been what he'd been waiting for all along. "We had our differences, and I wish we hadn't, but that was the way it was."
"Yeah," Peaches echoed. "It happens." It felt like she was acclimating too slowly to this conversation. She'd scare him off any minute now, and then they'd never talk about this again and it would be her fault for not knowing what to say…
"Exactly!" Once again, Julian surprised her by taking that non-answer and immediately launching into more details. "I wanted to go roaming, and my parents and Jared didn't. I realized after a while that I wouldn't be able to convince them. We had one last argument about it, and I decided to go anyway."
Peaches nodded, she hoped, encouragingly.
"I sometimes feel bad about it, but I needed to do what was best for me." Julian said after another pause. "I guess I felt like…I deserved to try something different if I wanted to."
"Of course you did, sweetie!"
And just like that, he snapped out of it.
They'd been looking at each other as she said it, and Julian broke eye contact immediately. Peaches barely had time to register that the conversation was over before he was backing away from her.
"Jules-?"
"So, we should, uh, head back." He motioned once toward home, and Peaches really, really wished she was more in the mood to push this.
But she wasn't. She was tense and out of her depth, and whatever she had just done to upset him would probably only get worse if she tried to convince him to talk more. "Sounds good."
When he glanced at her quickly as if surprised at the easy agreement, she offered him a smile and nodded. He nodded back warily, but when they began walking side by side, he didn't protest when she wound her trunk around his.
"Sidney is going to be really excited." Peaches was pleased to see the side of his mouth turn up at the comment. "You're going to have your trunk full for the next few days."
"Nice try; we will have our trunks full for the next few days."
She laughed at his correction, and by the time they were entering the triplets' sleeping area, he seemed okay enough again to not arouse any suspicion. At least, not from Cooper and Sidney. Mayim glanced between them a couple of times, but Peaches didn't even have to give her a warning look before her skeptical expression smoothed out again and Mayim was asking questions and listening as if she hadn't noticed a thing.
Peaches, despite herself, kept her eyes on Julian. She still had no idea what had just happened or even how to begin to fix it. But as she watched him talk excitedly, more and more back to being happy and bouncy by the second, she silently promised him that she'd figure it out.
000
The first of the large, official meetings hit Diego harder than he really wanted to admit. He'd been busy from the moment Shira dropped the Buck news on him and then sped off to matters of her own and he'd returned to being a pack leader. It felt like he hadn't had a free moment to think again for the next forty-eight hours.
That was probably why he couldn't keep himself after the meeting from seeking out a—rare these days—vacant spot at the very edge of the territory. He doubted Isaiah would mind too much if Diego ventured into his pack's area to get a little breathing room. But he also wasn't in the mood for any surprise visits or casual arguments.
He stopped at an outcropping, shuffling up to it carefully even though the edge only dropped a foot or so. It was still snowing hard, as it had been all day, and once he got to the edge, Diego flopped into the snow, staring out at the empty plain beyond as the wind swept the powder around in large funnels.
There was too much to do, too much to discuss, too many reports from herds and packs in the north describing the ever-worsening conditions. These meetings were supposed to go on for a couple of weeks so that everyone had a chance to share and they could all get an idea of the breadth of the problem. From there, everyone would have to decide whether or not they wanted to stick it out in their respective territories. Already, it felt like they were all living in a dead-end canyon that had stretched its walls out around them while no one was looking.
The storms were making even twenty miles north from here almost inhospitable. That was…that was almost unfathomable to him. He'd spent so much of his life in the biting cold of the north, he was only too aware of what it meant for other animals who also lived there to say they were close to having to leave it. Those same storms would be closing in on them here soon enough, and Nate still wasn't here yet…
"Well, nobody has killed anyone else yet," Brian said by way of greeting as he settled down beside him. A moment later, Diego felt the soft brush of snow being swiped off his back. "I'd call this a success so far."
"So far," Diego echoed. "Thanks." He hadn't even noticed how fast the flakes were burying him.
"You've already decided this is a disaster, so you're avoiding everyone." Brian said so matter-of-factly, Diego's head wrenched up to look at him. Brian just scoffed at him. "I know you, and I know what you're like." A pause, and then, "We'll still be together even if we have to move; it'll be okay."
"You don't know that." Diego turned his gaze back out to the plain and its violently blowing drifts.
"No, I don't." Brian wasn't as quick to answer this time, but he bumped Diego's shoulder with his trunk. "But we all want to stay together. It's not going to be the same as the last time you had to do this. And I promise I'll leave lots of tracking markers so even a novice like you can find me again if we get separated."
Diego busted out laughing even before Brian had finished the sentence. But it was all too easy to sober again a moment later. He hated to ask, but… "Any news?"
He didn't have to elaborate; Brian would already know what he was asking about. Diego felt rather than heard him rumble unhappily. "No. But I'm sure they're fine. Nate isn't nearly as boneheaded when he's not around you. Between his pack and Bodhi, they're a force to be reckoned with. They probably just ran into some snowed-over trails and had to take a longer route. No big deal."
"Isaiah flinched earlier when someone asked where his second was. He's worried."
"Isaiah has a lot of strong feelings about a lot of things. Now, if we could just get him to express them in a healthy manner, we'd be set."
The meager reassurance wasn't enough, and Brian clearly knew it. "Come on," he nudged Diego again. "We should get back so Mayim can yell at you."
"What?" Diego asked, momentarily pulled out of his own crippling worry as he stood to follow him.
"Oh, didn't you hear? She's pissed at you for not listening to Peaches. I honestly thought you'd come all the way out here to avoid her."
Diego barely stopped himself from sighing at the mention of Peaches. Most days it felt like they had an ever-growing pile of things they needed to talk about. And most of them were, concerningly, on his end. It was becoming increasingly obvious to him that there were things he needed to say to her before this was over and Julian and her talked about moving on. He wouldn't stop them from going—far from it. But he didn't think he could live with himself if he didn't talk to her at least once about how much her being here had meant to him, how much her wanting to know him meant to him. And how sorry he was for what had happened and that he hadn't had more of a chance to be part of her life.
"I never said they couldn't go looking for Buck," Diego settled for grumbling now.
"You were pretty adamant that he wasn't the answer. I don't think it's a far leap." Brian was laughing next to him, a deep rumbling sound that Diego could feel in the air around him. He'd been very surprised to find that he found this detail quite endearing about mammoths. "If it makes you feel any better, I didn't know they'd been doing this either until Jackson told me."
"Yeah, an herbivore with no tracking skills—not for lack of my trying, by the way—not knowing what was going on under his own trunk makes me feel so much better."
"That's it! You've betrayed one leader too many." Brian lightly picked him up for a moment, his trunk wrapping up to playfully tussle the ruff along Diego's neck before dumping him back down into the snow.
"How original." Diego readied himself and then jumped up and out of the snow bank he'd been dropped into.
"Hey…" Brian started after a few minutes of smug (on his end) silence between them. "I wasn't sure when to tell you or how to bring it up in a way that wouldn't result in an argument, but I think now's as good a time as any." When Diego glanced up, the side of Brian's face was serious—his nervous face. "You should know that I talked to Merle, and we decided that, assuming everything else works out, Peaches and Julian should pick a space in our territory the way that you and Shira and then the triplets did. I've already run it by Peaches and she accepted."
Diego couldn't help but remain silent as this admission sunk in. The silence stretched on and on as his mind tripped over itself at the news. And it took too long for him to gather himself enough to say, "So Merle has time and energy for that decision but not running his pack, huh?"
A beat. "Any other thoughts than that?"
Another beat in which it felt like his face was pulling apart at the edges without his permission. He barely managed to keep his voice neutral. "Nope."
"Liar. You're smiling."
"Shut up."
000
Nate didn't push any more that day. Or the next. Or the next. Or the next. And Diego didn't stop himself from hanging around. By the end of a week, Ames and Cole still hadn't killed him, which was nice and a little unexpected. Unsurprisingly, Rowan didn't address his continued presence directly, but clearly, nonconfrontationally, was doing everything in her power to include him in everything.
And despite Diego's sudden intrusion into her short life, Amy had no trouble attaching herself to him quickly enough. Even at her young age, her instincts would already be able to tell her that Diego was basically a stranger. And yet she was all over him and everyone else in equal measure.
It had been a while since Diego spent time around saber cubs, and he'd forgotten how easy it was to feel endeared to them when they stared up with bright, wide eyes or were feeling rowdy and crawled all over their packmates, meowing and chirping for attention and usually more food. Amy really was a sweet little cub, and when she wasn't sleeping or nursing, liked to stumble around the pack's small clearing over and over again as if she'd never explored that dirt rut or this pile of snow before.
"You've traveled a lot since we met you up north," Rowan observed late one evening when it had been almost three weeks. Amy had finished nursing for the night and snuggled down, exhausted from a long day of troublemaking, between Rowan's paws. Everyone else around them was asleep, and Diego was on watch for the first part of the night.
He reluctantly glanced at Rowan, who looked just as exhausted as her daughter, and nodded once. He really, really should be moving on; he didn't need the reminder.
Rowan's voice was warm even as she yawned. "I know you've been on your own for a while…"
"I was trying to find my herd," Diego snapped before he could stop himself. The only thing that kept him from immediately fumbling an embarrassed apology was the fact that it was the first time he'd said the words out loud since he'd met her and Nate a year and a half ago.
"Exactly. So if this," she inclined her head at her sleeping packmates, "isn't for you, we'll understand." He shouldn't have been surprised that she didn't take offense at his sharp reply. Instead, she yawned again and lowered her head to rest to the side of Amy's tiny, sleeping form.
"I…I gave up. Looking for them." Diego finally said after the silence had stretched on a little too long. It was yet another reminder of how much had changed that he was willing to admit it to someone else. And that he was willing to do it in an attempt to apologize. "I still don't know if it was the right decision. I just… I don't know what I want anymore." Other than his herd. But he'd been living in these feelings so long, he wasn't sure how much was real and how much he'd idealized over months of being alone. Where had the doubt that this would have ever worked in the first place gone?
Rowan hummed, eyes closed. She looked tired all the time now; it was easy to forget that she'd ever looked any other way. She shrugged with one shoulder, "You'll figure it out eventually, everyone does. But I'd be lying if I said I don't get the feeling you're reluctant to go."
"Hunting is easier in a pack. So is security."
He swore he could sense her eyes rolling. "You like spending time with Nate; you might as well just admit it and stop hedging."
"He's a good guy." It was high praise given there was only one other animal Diego had ever said that about before—not that Rowan would know that. They hadn't asked for more details about Half Peak, and he didn't think he'd ever be ready to repeat that series of events out loud in any real detail.
"Nate likes you. He considers the two of you friends, but he hasn't said anything because he doesn't want to spook you. I, however, have no such qualms, and I think I've made how I feel fairly obvious." She paused as he laughed once in affirmation before adding, "And to be perfectly honest, the idea of you being around for Amy makes me feel a lot better. She really loves you, and I don't think you're doing a very good job staying unattached."
"Rowan… I…" How was he supposed to say what hearing all that meant? What was he even supposed to do with all of these feelings piling on top of him?
"Stick around if you like it here and think we could be what you're looking for. If not, go and do what you need to do. We just want you to be happy."
"I…I feel the same way about all of you. I just don't know if I can do this long-term. Being in a pack—" What if there was something more out there? Something he hadn't found yet and wouldn't if he settled back down into the ambient routine of pack life? Along with how he shouldn't be delaying his departure, this was a thought he'd increasingly been having over the last few weeks. "—I don't think I want that. But I do want to be here right now."
"Then stay."
So he did.
000
Julian had come so close—agonizingly, worryingly close—to outright lying during their conversation. Even bringing Jared up had felt like he was crowding the conversation with something that didn't belong. And then he'd almost stumbled his way into saying "I…guess I don't really know what to say about them." Which was a lie. A massive, ugly lie. Because he knew exactly what he wanted to say about them and…
At first, he'd had a dangerous, bright hope because Peaches was saying it was okay. She'd nodded the whole time and supported everything he'd said. He wasn't going to tell her everything he wanted to—needed to—in one go, but all in all…at first it actually felt like a pretty good start.
And then he'd gone and ruined it with, "I guess I felt like…I deserved to try something different if I wanted to."
Looking back, it was obvious reassurance bait, and when she'd agreed and called him sweetie, it jolted him back to reality. Which was for the best. It reminded him that no, he really wasn't telling her everything she needed to know, and maybe he shouldn't have brought this up today. He'd told her the details but he hadn't given her enough information to really understand them. So basically, he had lied to his wife and made it all so much worse. All because he was a bad guy who couldn't just get over it.
He wanted to stop being so selfish, and he hated even more that he didn't know how to stop. He knew he'd hurt Peaches by doing this haphazardly, and now he'd put them both into a position where they'd need to talk about this more. At which point he'd start trying to explain himself again while still trying not to admit the extent of how gross he felt about the whole thing. Inevitably, she'd say something really nice and remind him just how gross and angry he really was, and this would all happen all over again. All because he couldn't just keep his mouth shut and deal with it before dragging her in too.
Selfish. Selfish. Selfish.
000
The knife seemed too important to just leave there. It also seemed too important to just chuck into the nearby jungle, which had been Gertie's vehement suggestion. Roger, bless is squishy little heart, wanted to keep it to give back to the weasel.
"It seems mean to just throw it away! I think he's attached to it. We'll get it back anyway if we kill him," Roger puffed as their in-flight argument reached its peak.
"Wow, that makes sense," Gertie shot back.
"Enough!" Gavin clutched the non-sharp end tighter in his claws. "Shut up and be on the lookout for this supposed 'problem.'" His laughter mingled with Gertie's answering giggles. Behind them both, Roger started immediately craning his neck around, putting those eyes to good use.
Gavin knew Buck was lying. If he was being honest with himself, which he made it a point to always do, he actually felt silly for wasting their time on this. They'd searched the area carefully after he'd escaped and found only fragmented traces of him leading to the south. Gavin had called it after an hour of failing to track him down. So with Buck off somewhere and currently not within killing distance—specifically, within reach of their claws—they didn't have any other pressing matters. Might as well check out the western boundaries for themselves so they could throw it in his face the next time their paths crossed. And if Buck tried to taunt them for having successfully tricked them, well…Gavin was fine with it if those were the weasel's last words.
Gavin had barely finished playing that scenario to its desirable conclusion when they crested a bank of palm trees and caught sight of the western horizon of their world. At which point, he almost fell right out of the sky at the view that greeted them.
Within moments, he banked into a more purposeful dive, hearing the whoosh as his children followed, and they all landed ungracefully on the silty ground and craned their necks upward to watch the thin streams of water and occasional clumps of snow rain down as the ground above their heads groaned. It had been a long time since Gavin had seen ice, and he could feel the chill of it even from this far away as it glittered over the sky of their world like creeping vines.
"Uh, I think Buck was right," Roger, unhelpful as always, was blinking rapidly, sharp eyes taking it all in. Honestly, this son of his.
"No, no, no. This is a problem. This is a problem." Gertie was wringing her front paws together, mouth pulling down to one side and teeth biting into her bottom lip.
But Gavin just smiled, admiring what had already accumulated and clearly wouldn't be melting for a while. "It is. Just not for us."
To be very clear on this, I'm not in any way saying that Julian actually is selfish because he's having a hard time dealing with his emotions. I just think that with someone like him who's used to being in a good mood the majority of the time and having that behavior praised and therefore reinforced by the others around him, it would be hard to acknowledge how deeply hurt he is by the gulf between himself and his family. It would feel almost painful and ugly to have such strong anger and resentment. The same goes for Peaches feeling like she's out of her depth. She really wants to be there for him, but it can be hard sometimes, especially since we're often not taught how to help each other in this way. They're both just out here trying their best.
Replies are coming to those who left reviews, and thanks for reading!