thread is backdated to 5/20/2026
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Motherless mama's boy
3-3-3 OC
3-3-3 OC
SpeechEmotional Actions Thoughts
Toska had never liked the lake.
Even standing at the shoreline made his fur prickle beneath the cold mist curling over the water. The fog clung too tightly here, thick enough to muffle sound and thought alike, and somewhere beyond it sat the island locals whispered about in half-prayers and warnings.
Lake’s Halo.
The World Tree.
He stared across the dark water with narrowed blue eyes, tail flicking once in irritation.
All this,he muttered bitterly,
because Polly doesn’t want to feed her own damn children.
The words dissolved into the fog without answer.
Still, he stepped into the shallows.
Freezing water swallowed his paws as he crossed the narrow stone path hidden beneath the surface, barely visible beneath the moonlight. The farther he walked, the quieter the world became. No birds. No insects. Even the wind seemed afraid to touch the island.
By the time Toska reached shore, his shoulders were tense enough to ache.
The tree loomed overhead immediately.
Massive didn’t begin to describe it. Its roots twisted through the island like ancient serpents, bark silvered with age and twisted or broken by years of wear. The branches vanished into the fog above, impossibly high.
Toska stopped beneath it, staring upward despite himself.
…Okay,he admitted quietly.
That’s a little impressive.
The air smelled rich here — wet earth, flowers, sap, old magic.
And milk flowers.
He caught the scent quickly beneath everything else: soft, sweet, almost creamy. Small pale blossoms grew tangled near the roots, glowing faintly blue-white in the dark.
Good. At least this trip wouldn’t be pointless.
He lowered his head and began gathering them carefully between his teeth, trying not to think too hard about why he knew these flowers helped induce lactation in nursing mothers.
He still thought the whole situation was irritating.
But not enough to ignore hungry pups.
Toska paused after pulling another stem free, ears twitching at the distant sound of water moving around the island.
For a moment, the fog shifted.
He thought he saw shapes beneath the tree roots — two skeletal figures curled together within the hollow at its base, wrapped eternally in vines and flowers.
Watching.
His fur rose instantly.
Absolutely not,he whispered.
The flowers nearly spilled from his mouth as he turned sharply away from the hollow, forcing himself not to look again. The island had a reputation for a reason, and he had no interest in meeting whatever ghosts lingered here.
He came for flowers.
That was it.
Nothing noble. Nothing sacred.
Just flowers, ones supposedly meant to induce lactation, why had he agreed to this again? Right..food, and maybe some kind of respect, but he doubted he'd earn any respect.
Toska exhaled sharply through his nose and adjusted the bundle in his jaws before starting back toward the lake, quickening his pace as the mist thickened around him again.
Behind him, somewhere deep within the roots of the World Tree, he felt something, like he might come back here, somewhere in the future, far off most likely, when the world calmed further, and everyone was safely home again..
