The yearling had gotten turned around many times by now, and kept puttering on. His instinct was to head for higher ground whenever possible - which was difficult, given that these were lowlands by default. He had tried to find his way by the light of the stars some nights, except it was not a skill he had ever really been taught, and besides that the forest was so thick and unruly that Reki couldn't keep up with it.
He was beyond tired at this point. Luckily he had come across the carcass of a goat, likely killed by a fellow wolf a week or so ago, and while that had been picked over and ravaged by scavengers, he couldn't help but linger close by. He'd managed to sneak away a leg bone at least.
To his camp, then, dragging it until his own legs gave out, and he held it tightly as he began to gnaw with his molars, putting in all his remaining energy to crack it open to supp upon the marrow - but should anyone find him, he would be very much asleep with the femur held as if for security; his mouth holding one end and drooling.
She’d asked her mother to spread the word: they were officially recruiting. Ideally, she and Njord would love to find another mated pair, though Meerkat would be happy to take in anyone who might better their new, small village. They weren’t desperate, yet they were certainly eager to formally establish their claim on the copse and that required additional support.
Meerkat spent the day tidying The Taigh, then decided to look for some items to spruce up the earthen cottage. She headed south, dead leaves crunching under her paws as she searched in vain for any last wildflowers. They were all crumbled to dust by now, though she didn’t lose hope. There were always evergreens. She could gather up some pine cones as well as some sprigs of needles; they would bring some freshness to the large burrow.
It was the smell of cedar that ended up drawing her attention in particular. She perused the sweep looking for the perfect boughs to drag back home as the November sky grew dark. Meerkat preferred the longer, drooping, blue-green needles of the Cedrus deodara. She found a particularly fragrant cluster of needles at the foot of one and couldn’t help but think it might work as a makeshift broom.
Well, she thought, lips twitching, it is called Cedar Sweep. Laughing to herself, she bent to pluck the end of the branch in her teeth. While her head was lowered, her eyes flicked upward and immediately noticed the dark shape of a wolf curled up just a few yards away.
The sounds of Meerkat striding along did not alert the tired boy, not until she tried to worry at a branch. The shifting and creaking of the wood was so drastically off-putting that it pierced through whatever stage of sleep Reki had fallen into, and he jolted awake.
His jaw was sore from hanging open around the bulbous end of the femur, and his tongue had mostly dried, so when he slapped his mouth shut in that instant he experienced textures rather than flavors; namely of his tongue, which he worked a few times to lubricate.
His drowsy eyes were unfocused at first. It took him a second to register that a pair of eyes stood adjacent to his sleeping spot, and watched him from behind a sagging branch.
Reki therefore reared back and up, partway, with his front half and let the femur roll off his forelegs, where it clattered to the dirt. The sound of that spooked him more, and with the expression of a fawn facing a wolf for the first time (wide eyed, tail up) he stumbled back and cowered.
She immediately dropped the thin branch and stepped back, at the same time the stranger roused. Meerkat hadn’t noticed the bone until it dropped from his mouth, though her eyes barely skirted over it before returning to him. It was hard to make out details in the gloom, though there was a nervous glimmer in his golden eyes.
Hey, sorry, I didn’t see you there. I didn’t mean to disturb you,
she said in a soft voice. Meerkat paused, wondering if it would be more polite to excuse herself or introduce herself, eventually deciding on the latter. My name is Meerkat. What’s yours?
He seemed young, though it was difficult to tell. He certainly wasn’t a pup, though perhaps he was a yearling, the same age as her eldest trio. Just thinking that stirred her maternal instincts, which felt a tad silly. But with a pack of her own and breeding season around the corner, Meerkat supposed it wasn’t altogether unsual.
Not knowing who she was or what to expect, Reki watched her owlishly at first, then sparingly, with his eyes glancing to the trees around them as if he was surrounded. He wasn't sure if she was alone, if he was in trouble, or if he even had the energy to get up and run; plus, where could he go? This place was a maze of trees and shadows. If he ran there was a chance she would chase him. Maybe someone was waiting for that exact moment...?
When she introduced herself Reki was perplexed again. He hadn't spoken to anyone since home. Even there at the Rise, there was a comfort in silence. His expression gave the impression he didn't understand - or that he wasn't about to answer.
His legs tucked in close to his body like a cat consolidating their space.
Reki.
Came his answer, finally. A frantic lick of his lips came next. He eyed the femur for a second then feigned disinterest, presuming Meerkat hadn't seen it, to protect what was worthwhile to himself.
The quiet that spread between them was short-lived, but felt endless to the boy. What're you doing ta the tree?
Distract, distract, keep her focus away from his food.
Her words only built the tension between them. He shifted about like a spooked horse getting ready to bolt. Meerkat wondered if she’d made a mistake by speaking to him. Perhaps she should just leave him be. Just as she was planning her retreat, he rumbled a response.
Reki?
she repeated reflexively. It’s nice to meet you.
It was a platitude, of course, and her nose wrinkled a little. She tried to think of what else she might say, if there was anything she could say that might calm him. But once again, he beat her to the punch.
Oh,
she said, blinking down at the branch, then back up at him, I was just going to take this home to spruce up the den.
Meerkat stifled the urge to make the obvious joke, instead saying, I live in Sun Mote Copse. It’s that way.
She canted her head to the north. What about you, Reki? Where do you live?
When she didn't bare her teeth at him, he relaxed an inch. She didn't demand anything or deem this tree her property, which was nice. She hadn't noticed the bone yet, which was also good; in fact, her interest was in the branch and the branch alone — which was outright bizarre. But, if it meant he could keep his food to himself, he didn't mind.
I... I live here, I guess.
His gaze was downcast after he said this, as his nervous demeanor overwhelmed his social skills. He didn't mention anything specifically after that and appeared to wall himself off, curling tighter upon himself. His eyes flickered in the direction she had indicated but he didn't seem aware of anything for a few minutes.
Absent-mindedly he looked at her chosen branch and muttered, That's a deodar. Smells good.
A shift of his body, while his face retained the look of unrelenting sorrow and the gaunt affect of someone who was on the borderline of starvation, soon. Good choice fer a den.
Her brow furrowed at his hesitant answer. It felt as though she kept coming across youngsters on their own lately. Meerkat supposed it was natural to explore or even disperse at a young age—she’d done it—but she couldn’t help but fret like a mother.
It is,
she agreed with Reki’s identification of the coniferous limb at her feet. Are you on your own, then?
There was always the possibility he was like Ines, though even in these few short minutes, Meerkat sincerely doubted that. He seemed skittish, maybe a bit melancholic too. Ines had been friendly and full of confidence, though Meerkat still secretly thought she had bitten off more than she could chew at such a young age.
He resented the question.
With his ears burning, Reki almost said something sharp and mean, but he caught himself and felt immeasurably worse for even having the instinct to snap or say anything like what flit through his head. He thought of home and the people there - but then nodded.
I dunno where I am.
Reki went on to admit, sighing, which made his shoulders shift.
He went quiet again after that, too tired to converse for much longer. In thinking about the Rise and his predicament he had forgotten about the femur.
He didn’t really answer her question, though his vague words told her a lot. She frowned, eyes following his movements as he shifted warily. Their growing familiarity did not seem to put him at ease much.
Well, this is Cedar Sweep,
she said, and the copse is due north of here. Would you like to come back there with me? You can meet my husband, Njord, and we can provide you with a proper meal,
she continued, glancing at the discarded bone, and a comfortable place to rest, if you like.
Meerkat fully expected him to decline but she couldn’t just leave him here, all alone and forlorn, without at least offering. Maybe if he accepted, they could get to know one another better and he might end up staying in the copse. He would be their first official recruit, though she wouldn’t get ahead of herself.
Reki listened intently to then descriptions and names, but he perked up the most when Meerkat offered to take him home; he knew only hunger right now, and he was desperate.
OK.
He agreed without thinking about it. As nervous as he was, as uncertain, he was too hungry to refuse such a kindness. If she turned out to be a witch wanting to gnaw on his bones then he was screwed.
He lifted to his feet, detangling his coiled body; then he reached for his bone and clutched it awkwardly. The look on Reki's face was hopeful and worried at the same time.
He agreed so quickly, Meerkat could only blink. Then she smiled, mouthed the same word to herself and watched him pick up his bone. Likewise, she plucked her cedar branch off the ground. Then, with a tip of her head, she indicated for him to follow.
They traveled in silence that Meerkat wouldn’t call comfortable, though it was companionable. Soon enough, they reached the copse. She didn’t slow, crossing the borders and heading toward The Taigh. But she didn’t take him all the way there, decelerating just before it came into view.
Setting the limb on the ground, Meerkat said,
You’re welcome to sleep anywhere you like. Our den is just up there.
She gestured with her muzzle.
We call it The Taigh. It’s intended for pack mates who have earned our trust.
Hopefully he understood, though Meerkat still felt slightly awkward mentioning it. She cleared her throat and quickly changed the subject.
I’ll call for @Njord, then let’s find you something a bit… meatier,
she said with a light laugh, eyeing his bone.
Meerkat sent up a call for her husband, then motioned for Reki to follow her toward the communal den. Of course, nobody else lived in it save for the two of them and, on occasion, visiting loved ones like Towhee. She shot her guest an apologetic smile, then ducked inside, fetched the freshest rabbit from their store and padded back out to set it at the yearling’s paws.
He had nothing to say, and no way to say it if he did, given the femur he carried in his mouth. Reki continued to steal glances at the woman the whole way, and his ears remained alert, pivoting to the subtle sounds among the trees. As they gradually neared the woman's claim he became a little more relaxed. It wasn't until she spoke that Reki's discomfort returned, and he eyed the homestead as if it were a witch's hut.
As she went on to call for someone else, Reki cautiously approached the site she'd made in to her den. Not once did he drop the bone, and carried it for comfort. She appeared to have been telling the truth: there wasn't much to her claim, with only the scents of the woman and a man he did not know, as well as some others that were far more stale.
He spooked a little when Meerkat appeared at his side with some food, and then had to debate with himself what was more valuable: the comfort of the femur, or the promise of a hot meal, as he eyed the rabbit. It wasn't long before he'd placed aside the femur and grabbed for the rabbit, tearing off a mouthful and swallowing greedily before he remembered himself.
Sheepishly looking to Meerkat, Reki's voice lilted, thank you --
before he resumed eating with gusto.
Njord arrived at their homestead, not long after Meerkat’s call, where his wife stood before a stranger who was gobbling down a meal. It was a young man of penny-brown though, due to his small stature, Njord pegged him as a boy born this year.
His brows knit and a small smirk curled his lips. He looked to Meerkat, bright eyes full of mirth, as if to ask what stray cat are you feeding?
“Who’s this, then?” he asked, voice brawny and strong.
You’re welcome,
she said as Reki ate, her eyes flicking over the slim cut of his body. There’s more where that came from, if you’re still hungry…
Her voice trailed off as her ears pricked, picking up the noise of footfalls. Meerkat turned to greet her mate as he strode onto the scene. She gave him a moment to ascertain the boy before their eyes met. She grinned a little at the expression on his face.
This is Reki,
she answered, turning her muzzle toward him. Reki, this is Njord, my mate. We haven’t spoken a whole lot,
she explained for her husband’s benefit, eyes still on the yearling, but if you’re in need of a home, Reki, we would be happy to give you one in exchange for doing your fair share of chores around here.
Meerkat laughed a little at her own remark, then hushed and glanced between the two men. Could Reki be their first official recruit? Was he suited to the life they envisioned here in the copse?
Reki didn't hear the approaching man, as he had slammed his face in to the food with gusto, and could only hear the gnashing of his own teeth or the popping of bone, and the tearing of tissue. When he did take notice of his name being spoken he listed his head, and in that moment he had a chunk of flesh between his teeth (still partially connected, pulling grotesquely away) and with a snap and then a heavy swallow, finished his meal.
H'lo,
he said to the man, and licked remnants of his meal off of his face.
Meerkat offered to let him stay, which drew his attention. His ears wiggled a little bit as he focused on her, eyes bright, and he asked in a faux disinterested tone, What kinda chores?
But he wasn't about to leave, either. Not when there were nice people with free food here — witch or not.
It seemed Meerkat had hooked a potential recruit.
Reki wasn’t exactly the wolf they’d envisioned as their first villager, but life’s greatest gifts often came in humble packaging. He was a young man. A prospecting upstart, but Njord doubted the lad’s ambition based on his flat tone. This was alright, however. It aligned with their mission to help guide and coach their pack’s denizens to unlock their natural talents.
“Tae start, we’ll be needin’ tae fill our caches for the winter. Then, I had my eye on establishin’ a meeting place for our pack. You could help us clear an area. There’s patrolling as well…” He thought of the run-in with the lone male. Njord’s voice became drawn out as the needed threaded another thought.
“Then, we can see what you’re best at an’, most importantly, what skills ye fancy. How’s that sound?” he asked.
Njord fielded Reki’s question. His eyes were bright with interest despite his casual tone. Meerkat let herself hope that perhaps he might be the first to formally stay with them as part of their upcoming pack.
We can get started first thing in the morning, after we’ve all had a good night’s rest and a hearty breakfast,
Meerkat contributed, then telegraphed her intention to retire to the nearby cottage. Make yourself at home, Reki. See you in the morning.
She glanced at her mate, smiling. Perhaps he would want to vet the young man a bit more thoroughly. She didn’t mind. Meerkat’s gaze said, I’ll wait up for you, as she turned and padded toward The Taigh.
Everything seemed to fall in to place. Njord outlined some expectations, but it was Meerkat's suggestion of sleep that Reki liked the most. He hadn't slept fitfully in a while, and now his belly was full and he could at least begin to relax. He kept in mind all the things he might be asked to do, but felt as though the decision to stay had been made.
He gathered the femur to himself and when Meerkat went off in one direction, Reki watched her, then eyed Njord, and sulked off to find a place of his own.
Few words were exchanged but the young wolf seemed inclined to stay at the copse. He had hoped to see a bit more spark from the lad, but perhaps Reki was more like an ember – slow and steady but sizzling hot. Time would reveal this. Though Njord had a soft heart, he was not opposed to chasing out freeloaders.
Reki went off and Njord joined Meerkat in the Taigh to sleep. Slowly, the foundation of their village was being laid.