Sleepy Fox Hollow the wonder that keeps the stars apart

i edited out a good chunk of what i'd originally written in this post because his thread with noma is on-going and i don't wish to assume anything as this takes place after that thread. :-)

Sif implores him to follow and Wardruna does, their progression slow. Wardruna does not mind. He’s in no hurry and it gives him time to mentally map out the territory that Sif has scoped out for them. Even if they do not officially become a pack Wardruna thinks there is enough of them that they can support one another through the winter as an unofficial group nevertheless. He’s climbed the ranks of Easthollow rather fast, which is surprising to the male that sits in their hierarchy as Delta, especially given what he suspects is their suspicions. He no longer harbors weariness of being caught — and anyway in his mind and in his culture there is nothing to be caught at he’s not done anything wrong — there is a rough contingency plan in place and he knows regardless what happens he and his women will survive the winter.

Sif moves at his blindside and though this instinctively makes him want to bristle he allows it, showering her with trust that he does not often show. In fact, he thinks the only other he lets on his blindside is Noma and wonders what that means. Sif slides alongside him, the press of her supple curves against him causes a low sound of contentment to rumble in his chest. The rapid swell of affection for Sif is surprising to the northerner but not unpleasant. She is pretty, yes, but Wardruna takes the work she’s put towards this as ambition. He wonders if she is the logical choice for Dama …for Wife. She is probably the youngest but she has discovered this place and she’s aided in …recruitment. She displays signs of leadership to Wardruna and he thinks that the others might very well be willing to look to her as their monarch. The matriarch of the sister wives ( is that what they are? He's not quite sure yet ).

It begins to snow, the flakes swirling upon the wind that sweeps through the territory as the pair move through it, closing in on a creek. A flake lands upon his muzzle and just as quick Sif is licking it off. Wardruna makes to offer an affectionate nip to her cheek or cusp of her ear: which ever he reaches as she is on his blindside and he’s still trying to learn how to judge those things. It is his biggest vulnerability and he loathes it utterly and completely. He’s getting better: better about not hating it, hating himself. It is evident that the Fate Weavers and Gods have monumental plans for him — having everything stolen from him in one non-fatal blow was merely a foothold. It knocked him down into a deep and dark pit but Wardruna…he is filled with a desire to prove himself, to be the victor; and now he thinks he can see the edge and he’s ready to pull himself out of that pit.

His ears twitch as Sif brings up Noma and he draws in a deep breath and lets it out slowly. “Noma is …Noma.” Wardruna offers with a slight shrug of his shoulders. He does not offer her anything more at the moment if only because he ( and hel ) does not wish to assume things.