he didn't really know if this was a better greeting.
this man did not bleed freely, nor did anyone seem to be breathing down his neck suddenly. no warning about bears.
yet Ålesund still felt his skin crawl and his tail tucked tightly between his hind legs. brown ears flattened and his scarred muzzle pointed delicately away from the man's direction.
erm...are you guys...a...
out with it!
are you guys safe...? i ran into a crazy pair of wolves down south. if you're going to like...chase me or scare me off, can we skip that and i'll just leave?
he had set off some sort of reaction and suddenly he felt very guilty. that kind of guilt that coiled up in his stomach and threatened to bleed out of his mouth.
maybe he should shut up forever.
maybe he should turn around and go home to the forest, beg for his mother's forgiveness and call all of this a bad dream.
erm yeah? i guess it was a valley and they didn't but they...warned me about bears and chased me off. one of the guys was bleeding already but he didn't seem concerned about it?
the anxiety — guilt — was probably painted pretty clearly on his marred face.
ursus.
they have killed.
had they planned to kill him? he had only once been under such a threat and he had not imagined he would be back under it again. it made him feel dizzy.
now he had been placed with a question and he had, at least he thought, knew the answer to that. except now he was uncertain — of himself, of these lands, of everything.
i...
what do you recommend, uh, graf?
my own?!
words gasped in response. how did he — why would he?
then he got asked about skills and suddenly all at once Ålesund was very certain he had made a grave mistake. he had no actual skills. could he do the basics? could he skirt by? yes, certainly.
skills?
i don't...have anything specific.
his face went blank and he stared at the great big man before him. although truly it seemed as though he was staring through him.
he felt —
stupid, embarrassed, anxious.
there was a familiar itch to bolt again but the man was not the same as the ones in the south. this man, although he loomed over the younger male, did not act with aggression.
small stuff.
his voice suddenly meek as his body subconsciously worked to make himself smaller.
Ålesund.
a pinne.
it sounded like something they'd call someone back home but Ålesund was no fool, he knew it wasn't his mother language.
and his gut churned some more with the knowledge that the pack was filled with woman, mothers. except he could not ghost now. Mahler had opened his wings up and Ålesund could do nothing but scurry under his protection like the child he was.
he nodded with silent understanding.
what should i do first...?
this was not at all like the south.
still he glanced behind him every now and then. expected someone at his back, expected eyes on him, expected anything besides the stonewarmth of Mahler.
okay.
soft, absorbed the knowledge that was placed in his mind by the graf.
will i see you a lot?
and perhaps in that question he was asking to be the man's shadow as he adjusted into rivenwood.
he wondered if Mahler knew what he had agreed to with such an offer.
Ålesund now felt inclined, welcomed, to be the shadow to the man in these first few vital days at rivenwood. it would help too, to avoid the mothers and perhaps pace himself in introductions.
i'd like to learn.
he decided then. i can come by tomorrow and start?
was that too soon? too fast?