One by one Njord’s roots, once again, grew into the cliffside of Sapphique. The pack felt quiet – perhaps because of Chacal’s son – but Njord couldn’t help feel a black cloud of shame followed him. He was eager to reconnect with the rest of the pack and so, on a dewy morning, he set out for hunt and hoped to run into a face he had not seen in a long while.
Njord had returned. They had welcomed him back, but Rosalyn's judgement was harsher than that. His family, and the pack, had grown in his absence. She wondered, somewhat harshly, what had brought him to even return. How long would he remain before he vanished again - just as they always did. Just as they always would.
She had little interest thus far in speaking with him and was no longer obligated to. The role of former leader settled more easily on her shoulders now - it meant she could keep to herself as she wished. But of course their paths would eventually cross and it seemed today was that time. He was hunting here as well.
Rosalyn regarded him coolly from where she had pushed through the growth. It would be wiser to join their efforts, but she did not move to join him. She no longer had the patience for appearances, and if he was looking for a warm welcome, he may want to seek more suitable company elsewhere.
Rosalyn, now firmly into her twilight years, cut a path through the autumn brush. Njord’s expression brightened at first, but then quickly cooled. Her indifferent gaze caused one of Njord’s ears to turn, telegraphing his uncertainty. It was ironic that the first wolf he ran into would be the hardest stone to budge, out of any Sapphiquian. No words of welcome, or even disdain, fell from the scarred captain’s lips. Perhaps it was the lack of any reaction that hurt Njord most of all and made him feel unwelcome in a place that was supposed to be his home.
The seafarer’s lips began to part, as if to test some small talk. Yet, he decided against it. Rosalyn was never much for words.
Instead he asked, “care ta hunt together?”
He seemed uncertain when he offered. Good. He understood her. If she still had the luxury of pride she might have refused - unfortunately she did not. Her hip was bothering her in a way that guaranteed she would be outpaced by any meal she attempted to catch.
Rosalyn gave a nod, then waited, though the stony silence stretched on.
Her daughter had welcome him home and she would honor that, but she thought them all naive. If Meerkat had taken him so easily, she would deserve every scar he would leave her. Rosalyn could only be grateful again that Chacal's chosen had embraced cowardice from the start. At least she had been spared what would always follow.
Men did not know how to build - they only knew how to claim.
One day Sobo would depart them too, inherited as surely as his red tail. Rosalyn resented Njord for this just as she resented him for bothering to return - his children deserved better than a father who would disappoint them twice.
She kept these thoughts silent, a maelstrom of irate judgement that he would no doubt feel in her rigid presence.
Only a stiff nod aknowledged Njord’s suggestion. Rosalyn did not speak, and he thought it better that way. He knew, by the daggered look of the captain’s remaining eye, that only resentful sentiments waited beyond her fangs. The animosity of her aura was enough to make the hair prick along Njord’s spine uncomfortably. Whether he stayed or left, now – there was no winning.
Yet he continued on and turned towards the meadow where the soft breeze wind and morning mist would lend itself well to hunting. Plenty of small game foraged for seed... and Njord could smell rabbits hidden among the tall blades.
She retained a silent indifference to the discomfort that seemed to linger between them. She could ask him why. Nothing he said would matter. She could tell him what she thought - and again, nothing would change.
She didn't break the silence until they had come to the place where she could taste their prey on the gentle wind. I'll drive them to you.
She delivered it in a quiet undertone, then didn't wait for an argument.
It would fit with her behavior so far, but the truth was, the reasoning was different now. She couldn't afford to let him argue - because if she drove, it meant she would not need to catch. She didn't want to say the thought aloud.
The seafarer was no stranger to the systematic decline of an aging wolf. Though Rosalyn appeared sharp as ever, he could spy the stiffness in her sinew and the slowing of her gait. He nodded affirmatively without retort and peeled away to set up their two-party hunting formation.
Njord, a man in his prime, moved through the blades like an underwater crocodile. His steps were well-chosen and silent, muscles primed to chase any movement.
When he was in position downwind he lay in wait.
Njord went without complaint or question. Rosalyn focused on when he had reached the needed spot, then flexed her paws and prepared. She would do her best to lead them where needed but hardly felt up to snuff today.
She kicked off and sprinted, coming at the rabbits and seeing three explode from the tall grass in a wild dash. She chose the ones closest and leapt to try and head them off, sending them careening in Njord's direction.
Her hips were already protesting, but she ignored it, digging in even as she lagged behind. She hoped Njord was apt and ready because she would not be able to keep up to help. Likely they'd get one catch at most.
I bit off too many threads so I’m gonna wrap up this one quickly if that’s okay!
Many long minutes passed as Rosalyn moved into position. Then, he heard a commotion in the tall grass as she gave chase. Three plump rabbits dashed away, quickly outpacing the Ruby as they escaped her pursuit. Unfortunately for one of them, Njord had keen fangs.
As a man in his prime, he was agile and merciless in his attack. He felt fur on his lips and quickly clamped down upon their quarry. A swift shake dispatched it immediately. A warm meal on a cold day.
If he was on better terms with the pack Njord might’ve invited Rosalyn into a macabre game of tug-o-war. Today, however, he simply traveled back and deposited the rabbit before her. Even if his reputation had eroded to nothing, the seafarer knew he could still provide for Sapphique in other ways.
“You can ‘av it all,” Njord said, a weak smile flickering and disappearing as he turned away. The man did not wait for any response and continued onwards towards Glintwater Lake.
Perhaps she should feel guilty. She considered it as he walked away, then dismissed it easily and picked up the kill. If he cared for her opinions then he would have them honestly. It was his choice if he accepted them as truth.
She had no time for him.
Silently she took it back to the den. She would share it with whoever was present, though she would not mention their hunt. He could seek their forgiveness on his own if he needed to. She would not assist.