She couldn't breathe, she couldn't tell her lungs to breathe, the pain in her heart just wouldn't let her. She knew his own turmoil as if it were her own, and she understood him and what he was doing, and her mind agreed with it. She wanted him to protect their children, and she wanted them as safe from Belladonna as they possibly could be, which meant keeping Clover from being near them.

She knew, she understood, but when he apologized with so much regret in his heart and when he made the walls stronger with the magic she so admired and adored, she couldn't help curling up into a tight ball, she couldn't help sobbing as loudly as her heart demanded, and she couldn't stop shaking.

She felt like he was treading over the broken glass that she was asking to fit back into the window pane, and he was looking at her with such pain-filled regret at the same time. She was the one asking the head to become attached to the body once more, but Bartos was the one who had controlled the guillotine with tears in his eyes.

And she heard him similarly erect a barrier in their bond, and she wanted to protest, she wanted to stop him from taking the only avenue she had to seeing her children, she wanted to scream it as loudly as she could, and she even caught herself whispering, "Please, please don't," over and over again as his apologies became farther and farther away. Without the bond, she couldn't see through his eyes and share the glory of what they had made together, she was well and truly blocked from interacting with them at all.

He was trying to sweep away the glass now, take away the corpse, and she was laying there, crying so much, begging him silently to leave it where it lay, knowing full well he was doing the right thing.

And then the barrier in their bond broke down and she felt his remorse, his sadness, and all the loneliness he had suffered since she had been swallowed by the dark, and she hesitated, looking down the bond, staring at him, shaking. She could barely gather the courage to say anything at all, fearing he would raise the shield in fear against her.

So while her heart was laying in ruins, her mind stepped in and offered the same exact support her love had given her when she was suffering. She sent the music to him without any words, but rather, a simple wish that he would take what he needed from it.

the light Beast bathed her in comforted her, as it always did. With a broken, quiet voice, she spoke, her head turned to the wall, her eye closed. "He's protecting our children from her." She said to Beast. She took in a shuddering breath. "They're...behind this. My family."

"Clover Speech" "Bartos Speech"

At first, she didn't know what was going on, or why their father clung so tightly to them both with such sadness in his voice. She was just happy to be here, to be alive and awake and loved, and when she peeked to look over his shoulder, she saw just in time as the earth groaned and encased the three of them in a brilliant blue stone wall, and she mewled in protest. No! She just woke up from her shell, she didn't want to go back into one! Her fur stood on edge, and she wanted to hurry to the wall just as it finished closing, to try and - and-

Her ears perked. What was that-? There was a strange form that moved outside that she could see, a pale white form that shone through the wall, and her brows wrinkled in childlike confusion. Who was that? She moved her head around to see better, but by the time the form was right up next to the wall, the walls became so thick that the light and the form was completely obscured from view.

No one spoke this whole time, and she just meowed plaintively, nudging at their father with her nose as if he would give them the answers.

Was there a monster outside the doors that their father was protecting them from? Because if that were the case, she wanted to meet them, and give them hugs and kisses. Surely everything would be alright then!

His father sounded... sad. He frowned, letting out a confused mewl, batting at the shining stone on the floor as if it should have solved every problem in Bartos' mind. Instead, the ground shook, gentle but unnerving, and the little buck's long, cream-colored fur rose, until he looked almost twice his size from the fluff. Blue gemstone eye shimmering, he watched in awe as a wall began to rise from the earth, shielding them from the outside. He relaxed by fractions, slowly resuming his purr - after all, he had his sister's pulse and his father's voice.

What better way to keep them than in another egg?

But his sister didn't seem to agree, and he winced back when she moved to look, hiding his face in her shoulder with a confused bleat, nudging her with short, stubby, coral-pink horns. A glimmer caught his eye - something beyond the wall, growing ever more dim with every added layer of benitoite. His tiny snout wrinkled, long, floppy ears pitching forward. The glow was important. In what way he didn't know... but he trusted his father, being the powerful and Valiant Knight he was, to protect them from it.

Absently grooming at the long fur of his father's neck, he kept his golden eye on the door, terrified that it would burst open and the light outside would swallow them all whole, until they were nothing but stone themselves.

@Bartos @Belladonna @Beast @Wisteria

His wall had slowly crumbled, leaving him exposed to everyone. And maybe he finally felt like he could let her in, in that small, subtle way, while the benitoite remained firm between them and he was assured that even if she could reach him, she couldn't reach them. That was all that really mattered now, that he protected them and in turn they protected him. He would have let himself be eaten alive if it wasn't for them.

He was blinded and deaf, overwhelmed by his own deluge of strangled emotion, numb and just barely able to detect the movements of the children curled up close to him. He couldn't hear their gentle mewls, only feel their shifting, and he selfishly wanted to block out even that. Oh, how could he be so selfish, clamoring for control where it was slipping away faster than he could find it? Like grasping at wet rock, he kept slipping and stumbling, each time damaging himself further, until eventually he would lose everything he had and he would descend into the water.

He fell, he crashed into the surface, breaking it like glass. And in that instant, he couldn't breathe. He was deep in the waters now, sinking further, stunned by collision. He couldn't move. The water gripped him, crawled into his throat, into his lungs, and it was regret. Regret that he had even done this in the first place. Why had he climbed so high, why had he left himself so open? Why was he not better prepared? Did he deserve it for his foolishness? He did, didn't he? Next time, he would know better. Next time he would come with the proper tools to save his life. Next time, even if he fell, he would learn how to swim. Next time he wouldn't drown.

And that was just it.

That clinical mind. For so long stifled by feeling, smothered by the heart, the brain had no room to breathe - the heart made him selfish, but now it was time for the brain. And the brain told him that he would survive.

All at once, he refused to let the water take him, next time, next time I'll be stronger. He pushed back to the surface and when he gasped for air, he was in that forest, the forest he feared. And there were monsters writhing in the trees with their sharp teeth and sickle claws, wailing in their lust and hunger, foetid sins crawling through the grass. But he could see them, because her searchlight illuminated him and everything around him. Even if he couldn't see her. He had gotten lost, and she was there to remind him.

He turned and fled from the monsters. He'd leave them in the forest, with her and her searchlight, even as it followed his every step. He'd run back to safety, clinical mind noting everything he'd need for that future exploration, clinical mind promising that it would not let the heart drag him back into heedless danger. He raised his head, blue eyes glimmering with wetness, and where his actions once resided in his heart he stored only the warmth she gave him. That was where it belonged. "Shhh. It's alright." Bartos' coaxed them gently, a purr beginning to form in his throat as he leaned towards his daughter, offering a soft kiss to her forehead. Then the same to his son. "I love you, I always will. Do you want to hear a story?" His voice was crippled still in the rugged topography of his throat, breaking apart with a quiet sniff and a smile.

And he reached back out to her, for her stories, hoping she would forgive him - asking for forgiveness, in that way.

@Belladonna @Beast

Beast stood quiet, and then turned to eye the stone. Her family... was in that? Behind the rock wall? Softly, gently, the white lion raised one mitt-like paw to press it against the stone. It was as if he hoped to contact those within, but really, in his heart and mind, he was wondering what Clover's family must be like. "I bet they are wonderful," he said softly, looking back at the doe through a tangle of hanging young-lion mane. It was not meant as a taunt, but rather a wistful observation. Then Beast turned his gaze back to Clover, worried for her. "I'm sorry," he sighed, quiet. "It's... a reason to get better, right? To--heal?" Pale shimmering eyes lingered on the doe, and he wished he could take her pain for her, take it away. She looked, and sounded, near broken; the repeated whisper of "please don't" wrenched his heart every time it spilled from her lips. Lost, unsure of what he could do for her, Beast let his words linger in the air. He slid down to lie before her, laying heavy, maned head on his paws, and watched. In all the time Vazi had kept him captive, the lion had never felt so helpless. ______________

She felt his every struggle in herself as if it were her own, and she felt every bit of her clench. He was suffering because of her, because of Belladonna, because she wasn't strong enough, and the both of them were drowning because of it.

She closed her eyes. She didn't want to deal with this pain anymore, she just wanted to slip away and nurse her shattered heart and beg it to fix itself, but she couldn't do that. She couldn't leave Bartos to suffer alone, she couldn't let the children to grow up without her, she couldn't leave Beast to be all alone. And if she was alone, Belladonna would slowly gain control of her weakened state and come back to this place with a vengeance.

"They have to be wonderful," She whispered. "For they are his."

She couldn't give in. She couldn't let herself weep. She had to soldier on for those she loved. She had to be here, to offer her heart to Bartos' spear.

He asked her without words for a story, and she swallowed.

"Once upon a time...there was a place with the highest buildings that reached up to the stars above. The buildings soared, some of them using the stars themselves as their adornment at the tip of the highest towers, because the gems that made them wanted to reach the sky and be among them." She said slowly, remembering the dreams her and Bartos had shared when they loved each other so long ago. "And down below, where the roads should've been were instead rivers that kissed the edges of the buildings. Sweet still waters that reflected the stars and caught them like lovers, forever keeping them in their embrace, only blurred when the gems of the city walked the waters surface with their powerful magic.

In this place the tallest of these towers was one encased in ivy that wrapped around its base and climbed higher and higher, with its own silent wish to reach the stars, and in this tower there was a wolf whose job it was to watch the crown waiting inside of the highest room of the tower. Every day he would climb the stairs to the room where the crown inside its glass vase, and every day he paced, watching the city below go about its business along the river's paths, the ripples they walked interrupting the love between the sky and the water.

But the stars that adorned the buildings that touched the tips of the towers had no such support, for they had no reflections. The towers were jealous, and wanted them for themselves, but when the stars wanted to speak to someone, the towers were silent as the stone they were made from.

So the wolf heard the star above the tower speak, heard her cry out for someone to listen to her and love her, so lonely was she without her own companion. And the wolf leaned out of the window to peer up above, and climbed onto the roof to better see the star in all her glory.

"I am lonely," She said. The wolf nodded and said slowly, "So am I."

So every day when the wolf was tasked with guarding the crown, he would pace around and glance at the city below and impatiently climb up onto the roof and spoke with the star. He would spend endless hours there upon the roof, talking and sharing secrets and their heart's deepest desires, and comforting each other and offering whatever support they could give the other. And every night when the wolf had to sleep, he said his heart-felt goodbyes, and his promise to come back the next day."

"Clover Speech" "Bartos Speech"

Their father was going to tell them a story! Oh- she had heard him tell stories while they were growing of valiant knights and brave soldiers in the fray and princesses with clever wits, and they had been the very first things she had heard. Now she got to hear one clearly, and she was so excited! She settled against her father's embrace, curling her new legs under her and around her, her head against her father's heart.

And the story started off like an soft warm embrace, wonderful words bundling her up and soothing her in a way that was somehow different from all the stories she heard before. This one was different from the very start, romantic and wonderful and dreamy. It spoke to her heart, beckoning her with love.

She already loved the star and the wolf as soon as they met, and she wanted them to have a happy ending together.

Do you want to hear a story? The words alone made the little buck relax instantly, flopping down to curl into the warm forms of his family, eye drifting sleepily closed, soft purr still rumbling from his chest. The only sign the cream-colored hybrid was listening were his perked ears, twitching this way and that, trying to catch every precious word. Head cradled in the crook of Bartos' arm, listening to his father's story and his sister's heartbeat, he was completely content, anxiety all but forgotten.

The wolf and the star - he committed the unfolding tale to memory, dreamy images of a strong protector and a gentle, wanting other half, the two perfectly in balance, the star casting her warm glow on the wolf. Maybe his mom was a star! It kind of made sense - that must have been the flickering light he'd seen behind the wall of blue, it had to be. But if his mom was the star... why wasn't his father, the wolf, with her?

Newborn brain working overtime, the story began to solidify, and he curled into a ball, pushing up against his father, offering some subconscious comfort. Maybe his dad needed help getting the star back?

@Belladonna @Beast @Bartos @Wisteria

He closed his eyes, reaching for her, and he found relief and love when she graced him with her aether. Her voice came crisp and divine through the connection and he regarded it slowly. At the same time, his children shifted and became comfortable and he was met with their warmth as well. Their beating hearts, so alive, so perfect, so innocent and unmarred by the cruel world outside their chamber. The cruel world that he had locked away, leaving Clover to the wolves. Or perhaps the cruel world was him.

In a slow and gentle meter, the cat began to relay the story to the children of the wayward wolf, and the stars, and the great city that yawned up all around him. It tugged at him, and he knew the depth to her stories, and the way they reflected life. But he spoke it in earnest none the less.

(sorry for the short post, i figured i'd just imply Bartos was repeating the story to them)
@Belladonna

Silence was all she got from the stone and her family behind it, Beast's saving light her only support in this. Her heart was broken, her light dimmed to a dim glow, almost flickering out, she was shattered on the ground and laid bare, but she could do this, couldn't she? For them? She could steal strength from Beast, she could focus on the story, and push past the pain.

"And when the wolf left when the lights started to fade, signaling the night, a panther came to continue the protection of the crown. He would pace around the pillowed dais and watch those down below, and like the wolf, he would go up to the roof and talk to the star for company. He had been her friend for as long as he could remember, and derived comfort from her, in her soft honesty.

But now, now all she spoke of was what the wolf had said, how the wolf was doing, how he had made her laugh, and the panther frowned and listened. Whatever story he tried to tell would always link back to her friend the wolf, and soon enough the panther grew dissatisfied with this. Why was the wolf so special? He had been her friend for much longer, and so quickly her attentions had been snatched up by a stranger who came by the day.

He left, bitter and angry as the lights started to turn back on, without so much as a goodbye to the star. The star was hurt by this - did the panther not like her stories of her new friend? She was just trying to share him with the panther, since they had never met, and so the star was silent and sad.

The days went on much the same, and the nights did as well, and the friendship grew with the star and the wolf, while it soured and cracked with the panther. The star had no idea what she was doing wrong, as the panther gave her silent, upset looks and would never say a word to her anymore. One night, instead of going back to his home to rest, the panther waited at the bottom of the tower's steps for the wolf to come, a bitter anger for the wolf in his heart.

When the wolf showed up, he nodded to the panther respectfully and started to climb, but the panther stopped him with a snarl. "Don't talk to her anymore." He said.

"Why?" The wolf frowned. "She's lonely, and I am her friend."

The panther growled low. "I was her friend first. She doesn't need someone like you to make her happy."

"I disagree," The wolf said slowly. "She is awake all the time; are you? You are not there all the time, and neither am I. We can both be her friends."

The panther advanced on the wolf, his teeth bare. "Stay away from her, or I will make you by whatever means necessary."

The wolf shook his head and climbed the stairs with a sigh, and the panther grimaced and went home. the wolf did his duty all day, pacing around the crown with a ever growing feeling of unhappiness, his ears pulled back, trying to block out the sound of his friend the star asking him to come up and talk to her, to explain why he was silent, why he wasn't saying anything at all. And when his shift ended and he bound home for the stairs, he tried his best to ignore her soft crying sounds.

The panther made his way up the tower and barely spared a glance for the crown at all and went straight for the star, and asked her what was the matter, why was she crying? And she replied that her dear friend the wolf was ignoring her, and she didn't know why. The panther spoke softly, telling her lies, badmouthing the wolf, saying he was an unfaithful friend and he just lost all interest in her entirely.

"That's a lie!" The star responded. "He promised me just yesterday he would see me again, and he would never break his promise! There must be another reason!"

The panther snarled and his claws dug into the roof tiles of the tower. He called to his magic, powerful and strong, and it enveloped the star completely. She gasped and cried out, and she fell from the ceiling, her beautiful white light transformed into wings and feathers and flesh. The panther caught her and cooed to her and petted her head now, smiling to himself. He took her away, far away from the tower, disregarding his duties for his love for the star."

"Clover Speech" "Bartos Speech"