Bjarna was gone. Gone, gone, gone —
And somehow Sól remained. Bereft and fallen into a deep depression, but here. The wolfdog's melancholy was nearly tangible as she searched Kvarsheim's grounds one more time for any sign of her pale savior. Her ears and tail hung low, and her eyes brimmed with sadness. But there was something volatile to the energy around her, too. Something that threatened to snap, to seize the world and wring it violently until it spat out Bjarna from wherever she was tucked away.
Sól did not take well to abandonment.
As soon as Gunnar had realized his daughter was missing he went in search of the sibling of her birth family. He had not gotten close with Sol yet, but he'd accept the girl as his own if she wanted him too as well. But that was a conversation for another day.
He shifted his weight the hitch in his hip growing worse with each passing moment.
Sól did not truly know the man who sought her, but she recognized him as one of the leaders of Kvarsheim. Still, his presence agitated her. At first sight, the fur along her back rippled and her lips peeled away from her teeth — just for a moment.
Then she burst into tears and ran to him, making a frantic circle around him perhaps three or four times before she cried out, HaveyouseenBjarna!
She didn't think he had, but she had to ask.
Her reaction put him on edge his own ruff puffing as ahe lifted a lip. He tightened his stance. He wouldn't hurt her, but he'd sure put her down pinned if she came at him.
I haven't. She spoke of going on a trip. Perhaps that is what she's doing?
He wished he could give her a better answer, but he couldn't.
Without me!
Sól exclaimed, circling Gunnar again only to stop in a flurry of panicked shuffling. She didn't fail to notice his tension, but instead assumed that he was as agitated as she was by Bjarna's disappearance. What will I do!
Then she really looked at him, looked at his face, having failed to do so before this. It was more effort than she would ever admit; easier to look elsewhere, at the ground, at the sky. She didn't know why. But now she looked to Gunnar for answers, and so it was worth the effort of looking directly at him.
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Gunnar felt his heart fall amd he wasn't sure what to say. He titled his ears forward as he worked through his thoughts.
Bjarna was sad. And needed to find herself. I think that is why she didn't take you with her.
He nodded around him. You are already apart of Kvarsheims family. Meet new wolves, learn a trade. Become your own wolf. I'll help you if you need it.
Sól was taken aback by the logical way he sorted through Bjarna's reasoning, and more so by his assertion that she was family. There were many things about his words that she did not understand, but she passed over most in favor of his mention of learning.
What is a trade?
One ear twitched as she asked, and her toes flexed in the dirt below. She didn't know about meeting new wolves. But learning, she could manage.
Gunnar hurt too. It was painful that Bjarna was miasing. He'd searched himself and had yet to find her. To know that he may never see her again killd him, but. She had told him she was sad had explained and he'd all but told hercto take time for herself.
A trade to help yourself or your pack. Healing, hunting, guarding, pupsitting, star watching, fishing. There are many more besides.
Sól pursed her lips in thought, and after several moments she nodded. What do you do?
She asked, still indecisive. Hunting suited her, but it didn't give her purpose. It was just another part of life. She'd almost asked what Bjarna did, but she didn't think she could be like Bjarna. The constant reminder would be too much, even if Sól thought herself capable of imitating the pale girl.
She at least was listening. Calming down. This was goid. Though her next question threw him off. He was officially an ambassador but lord he probably held many trades.
I'm an ambassador and guardian. I protect the norders and i greet new wolves. And i used to when i was much younger run messages between packs.
Protection seemed more her lot than caregiving. A guardian... will you teach me?
Sól sat down and fixed an intense look on Gunnar, as if she might extract the knowledge from him with the force of her laser vision. If she could have done exactly that, she would have.
Guardian. Perhaps if she had been able to protect Bjarna, she would not have left. It was too late now, but maybe this way, Sól could ensure it would not happen again.
He nodded. I can teach you, but guardian is mostly just learning how to defend. You patrol the borders, leave your mark on them, greet any visitors or newcomers at the borders.
He didn't know why she wanted to be a guardian, but he saw no reason not to allow her. They were a mixed bag of talents here in Kvarsheim.