Sanja found her way along Leynille, where the trees were thin white lines and crowned in sunshine yellow; the wind blustered, but the leaves only danced. The creek was low today. She stopped to inspect some scents along the rocks, and then moved on until she came to a familiar crux of trees.
There, she could remember the path to her birthing den. She moved slowly to seek it out - almost reverent, when in fact it was guilt the weighed her steps. When she came to the mouth of the den she had excavated, she found there the fading scent of Bjarna, who might have repurposed it.
A smile crept across her face, and a gloss came to her eye, as she turned from the den to walk further.
She walks along an overgrown footpath, fur tugged at by spreading briers, drawing an atlas in her mind of the strange lands. So much green, no snow in spring. Even her coat knew to be shed away as days grew longer and the sun heavier.
There’s a flicker of movement as the wood parts, and there stands a dark lady in the crest of an old hovel. She stills. Bjarna’s scent here is faded.
She chuffs at the unknown woman with a bristling ridge, a barest greeting to alert her of her presence if she had not been scented earlier. Kvarsheim, it seems, is expanding by the day. She is growing reluctantly more accustomed to strange faces in these still-strange lands.
In Bjarna’s absence, Skáld found himself seeking comfort in the presence and influence of Tauris. He latched on to the kindness she had shown him, knowing now that all who treated him well might some day disappear. Perhaps, he thought, if he simply stayed closer- followed those he loved around…They couldn’t wander off.
Somehow, he had managed to do the same thing- and he could only hope at this point that those who had missed him would forgive him, too, for being away.
He tracked Tauris’ scent which led toward a place which was simultaneously familiar and sad. And there, like a shadow of a memory, stood Sanja.
He felt a pulse behind his eyes, and his limbs trembled. He recognized her but the stiffness in Tauris’ posture made him leery and unstable all the same. He’d dreamt of his mother many times- but only in half of them was she present. In the other half, she had turned and walked away whenever he had chased after her.
Turned cowardly by anxiety, he panted lightly as he moved to Tauris’ side as though seeking shelter from a breeze. He uttered a soft whine- but couldn’t will himself to walk toward his mother for fear she might simply drift away.