Stone Circle Astragalus

Symbolization of the title flower · “Your presence softens my pain”

@Astrid had disappeared, and with her went Kristjan’s surge of familial imperialism. There was no point to such a thing, he found, not when blood was only good for running or fading away.

He felt dejected, on top of the stress of being a too-young leader, but he also felt comfort in knowing that his brothers still stood alongside him. Neither of them had yet abandoned Kvarsheim to chase after their only sister, the loneliest of them all.

He howled for his littermates now, Hjarta @Ujurak and Anda @Sven, their lands bathed in the low light of a rising sun. “Meet me by the stones.”

It was time to dictate their pack’s future. It was time to move forward.

Stage five: acceptance.

Sven headed towards his brother's call. He had sticks and branches along his spine, pieces sticking in his fur. He had hunted for Astrid. Searched and searched. She was no where to be found. It broke his heart. And he also grew very very angry with her. A type of anger that was slow and methodical and just burned ever constant. He didn't know if this could be forgiven. She had left them all.

He dipped his muzzle to Kristjan and then stood still waiting for their other brother. The stone prince of the stone circles. He was unsure what was going to happen to them. But well at least they had each other right? Right?

Ujurak's ear tilted to the call from his brother. His path to the Stone Circle wound from the prisnálund through the edges of the veiðadýr. Retracing the last known places their sister had been within their home. For her pawprints, an errant scrap of fur, for her. Astrid had been aloof to them for some time in her own grief following faðir's death. Her presence scarce, her voice softened. Even still, she had been there.

How could she just not be there?

The stone prince still held some hope to see her with his brothers. An ache split his chest as he felt the seams of his heart come undone at her continued absence. Old wounds reopening with a new surge of grief. As he greeted his brothers with a gentle brush of his muzzle to Kristjan's shoulder and teasing some debris from Sven's scruff, he knew it was shared.

I am happy to see you both.

Sven arrived first, but he was almost completely despondent, only greeting Kristjan with a formal dip of the head – like strangers passing on the street. It reminded him of the mood they’d all been in after Gunnar’s death, and then again with Taktuq’s disappearance. He felt cotton-mouthed, unsure of himself, and too self-conscious to reach out to his littermate. What if he rejected his affection? It would be the first time, but it would be devastating, so he chose not to risk its occurrence.

Instead, he gave Sven and his slow-burning mood his space. They stood in silence, waiting for their last remaining sibling, who arrived within the next few heartbeats and greeted them both with the warmth and familiarity Kristjan expected – nei, needed. He relaxed at Ujurak’s touch, though tensed again when he remembered that what lay ahead of them was much more difficult than mourning what they had lost.

Same, bróðir. I— His voice wavered, having pitched embarrassingly close to a childish whine, and he shook his head, erasing whatever thought he had and starting anew. Thank you, both. He turned his good eye to Sven, then back to Ujurak. For coming… For still being here. Kristjan cleared his throat. [Interpretation: He loosened his necktie after shoving the overstuffed Astrid File into a red-taped file cabinet labeled “Project Avoidance” and slamming it shut.] We are the leaders now. We must decide Kvarsheim’s future.

The boy reclined, sighing, the weight of it all literally pulling him down. So. What should we do? Do we change things, or would it be better to keep them the same? He looked from teal eyes to gray. Should we go with my idea from the meeting? He sounded worried to even speak it. To even think his idea – a child’s idea! – might be used to structure their pack made him feel ill.

Gone were the delusions of grandeur in the wake of a missing sister; away went his conviction that no one else could do better.

What was left was a harrowed expression, heartsick eyes and a trembled lip forced to set firm. Do either of you have another idea? Please, please, tell me what to do here! But even to his littermates, he felt too ashamed to put his true desperation into words.

Sven realizing his mistake when Ujurak greeted them so sweetly. He quickly shifted and greeted Ujurak warmly and offered a lean to Kristjan. He pressed against the side of his brother giving warmth where warmth was do. His note of apology.

I am happy to see you both too.

A soft sigh what had they gotten themselves into? He felt it had been needed, warranted, wanted. But much like he imagined his brothers felt. He had thought they all would lead. And now to have one of them so cruelly asunder. Well it hurt.

I think we all need a change. Because, because if things don't change the same mistakes keep happening and we don't move forward.

Sven looked at his brothers. But i have no idea how to make it change.

A stillness settled within the circle in the moments before Ujurak reached out to his brothers. Grabbing onto the threads that bound them in brotherhood and lighting a spark. There is gratification to see that warmth reach his brothers. Sven's cold exterior melting away and the tension easing from Kristjan's muscles. Bonds rekindled.

The ghost of a smile passed his lips. A bitterness sitting on his tongue that he was unable to do the same for Astrid. Perhaps one day he would have a second chance.

In the face of his brother's uncertainty, the shared warmth between them resolved Ujurak of one thing: if nothing else, the brothers would need to strengthen their connections with their packmates.

Something has to change, Ujurak looked between his brothers, resolve turning into conviction, but we need to assess the pack as it is first. I think we need to know our packmates better. He himself was reclusive. Keeping to his immediately family and that of Tauris's.

Once we know what—who— we're working with, maybe we'll see where... where things start to come undone.