Wolf RPG

Sobo was officially a yearling.

The realization dawned on him while he was plucking goldenrod in the heart of the woods. There was a tiny flurry of excitement in his chest, but besides that, he didn't feel much different than before. He paused in his gathering and set the golden flowers down, thinking he should go find his siblings to celebrate.

Then his face fell a little. He didn't think they would really want to celebrate with him. They were probably too busy babysitting someone's kids or having their own lives or whatever. It was a little childish to be excited about it, anyway. They'd probably just tease him. Sobo returned to his gathering and tried to tamp down his feelings.

Gunnar had set out to find a place to be useful. He still had a wandering spirit, but he kept it close to the pack lands now. Though he knew many secrets on the coast that were not far. He could certainly have easily went to one of those and back again without being gone long, but he was content to stay in the borders.

He came across one of the youths of one of the two sea queens brood. Sobo he thought he had heard the name. This was the one training to be a healer, clear by the flowers he lay beside him. Gunnar chuffed quietly letting him know he was near.

Goldenrod. Good little plant for wounds among other health benefits. I'm Gunnar by the way.

Gunnar stared again down at the little flower. His mother and Nerian had grown it in their garden. He wondered if it was even still there, or if the garden like most of the bay was lost to other wolves or nature itself.

Sobo angled back his ear, but didn't turn until he finished stripping the petals from the stalk. Admittedly, he was also being a little petty; the voice was masculine, and the only male wolf on the cliffs besides his siblings was Njord, and his father owed him a whole lot more than a sound in his throat for his treatment. He considered ignoring the man outright, but reminded himself that he had stripped Njord of his title as da and had no reason to linger on feelings.

When he straightened up, it was not his slate-furred father, but a heavyset nut brown wolf with telling streaks of grey around his whiskers and temples. Much older than either Njord or Sobo, Gunnar more closely resembled Rosalyn than anyone. Oh, said Sobo, surprised to see another man in Sapphique, and an unrelated one, at that.

Before he could say much more to excuse his rude behaviour, Gunnar identified the plant, distracting him. Yes, dat is right. I be Sobo. You be knowin' de plants?

The youth didn't turn, didn't even acknowledge other than a lazy flick of his ear. But Gunnar didn't mind, he knew where he stood in this pack. He was one of the lowliest of wolves. He also knew that sometimes, at least where his mother was concerned, one got entranced in the working of plants, and healing and forgot that others existed. His mother had done so often, even disappearing to her plants after Ragnar had died.

Gunnar dipped his muzzle down at the youth. Clearly he hadn't realized that Gunnar was a stranger until just then. The grizzled man lay one ear down, the other forward, a little wary now. He hoped he hadn't frightened the youth, or made him uncomfortable. That wasn't his intention. 

Gunnar nodded. I know enough to save my life and yours if the occasion called for it, but my mother was the real healer. One of the best around. I know a fair more than most. I'm Gunnar.

He repeated his name, in case the youth hadn't heard him when he had first arrived.

We have dat in common, den, said Sobo, blowing a stray petal from his whiskers and scooping them with his paws into a neat little pile in front of him. Erzulie be my manman and de finest healer Sapphique has to offer. I be only an apprentice in comparison.

There was more to his brand of healing than just plants, but Sobo still didn't know how to marry spiritualism and botany in an effective fashion, so he made no mention of it. Instead, he inspected Gunnar with some interest. It was hard to place the man's age besides knowing he was older, but Sobo suspected his mother was no longer around, else he might have asked to be acquainted. You are new to Sapphique, yes?

Gunnar listened. Well the thing about apprentices, is usually the surpass their teachers. At least that is the teachers hope. It was always my mother's and father's. Though I wasn't much for healing. Thought it was silly when i was a stubborn youth. He sighed. and twitched.

Don't now though. Wish I could tell my mom that.

Gunnar nodded his head. And shifted to study the youngling. I am, but I grew up not far from here. In the bay. Ragnar Lodbruk and Thistle Cloud were my parents. I left long ago. Just now returned. Mom wanted to come home to die. And I found her neice she told me she had buried her near the bay.

Gunnar sighed at that. It was both a relief and a sadness to know his mother was no more.

Gunnar studied the plants. Are you planting a garden? What other plants do you have?

Sobo wasn't really sure how to take Gunnar. The man was open and inviting, yet the way he spilled his soul about his mother to a complete strange was a little disorienting. He could only nod along sympathetically, at a loss for words. Where had all that come from, and why was he telling someone he had just met seconds ago?

When the subject moved back to herbs, Sobo warmed up to the conversation and shared a little of his knowledge. It wasn't much yet, but he hoped someday he would be a healer Sapphique could be proud of. Afterward, he invited Gunnar along to where Erzulie kept her stores, glad for help with carrying the goldenrod there.