Wolf RPG

The mountains fell away behind her as the glacier loomed nearer, and soon she was forging another river. This one, however, was nicely iced up and the woman bounded across with ease. Even the hotsprings became so small they appeared as tiny puddles. Trees became ice and Ulloriaq's nose was filled with scents - some she knew, some she did not, and some painfully missing. But one thing remained true; she was home.

She toyed with the idea of rushing straight up the glacier to the village, but something akin to fear held her back. Kukutux's words had been a double edged sword. It was elation she felt most. @Dutch was here - he was chief now - but there was so much she had missed. So much that had changed - she feared she would no longer be welcomed.

It was this irrational thought that kept her pacing the borders for some time before she sang a soft melody up the hillside to where it would hopefully reach the right ears.

"Through distant lands and stormy seas,
I've wandered far and wide.
In every whisper of the breeze,
Your name, a constant guide."

She remained wordlessly humming the rest of the tune fondly, for it had been the very same notes that he had sang to her that day in the woods.

The panther had begun to wonder if he should go out looking for her, or at least call again to ask where she was. He didn't because there was a part of him that worried he'd only dreamed of her voice, and if she didn't answer he would have to face that terrifying (and embarrassing) possiblity.

He forgot all this when he heard her voice.

"Up among the iceborn clouds
Soaring with the breeze
your voice rings clear across the land
And always reaches me,"

The song came out breathless, and was cut short by the need to run.

Long strides and longer minutes brought the panther near to where he thought she'd called from. Dutch coughed out a strangled shout of, "Tulugak? as his lanternlit gaze raked across the winterwhite landscape.

Would he come? Anticipation hung heavy on the air until-

His song floated finally down the slopes. 

"Over here!" her breathless laugh rang out from somewhere in the trees. There he was, the same as ever; a panther in the snow. Before long, she was loping the short distance between them and pulling the man into a tight embrace.

There was so much she wanted to ask him! So much she wanted to say! But all that managed to squeeze out of her throat was a choked gasp as she breathed his scent in long, deep breaths.

The way they met knocked the wind out him, although he couldn't say whether that was the impact or the heady swell of relief. He held her tight, dizzy with the idea that he'd just woken up from an uneasy dream.

He wondered how Tulugak felt. Her breath stirred the fur at his shoulder, and she made a sound that called an answering ache into his own throat.

"Welcome home," he said, his voice made gruff by some emotion — whatever came after grief, in the icy knowledge that her trip had not gone as they'd hoped. Guilt and sympathy clouded his joy. He held her tighter, as if all she had lost could be snapped back into place if he only squeezed hard enough.

They remained entwined together, neither one quite willing to break the embrace. And then he spoke and all the doubt she had felt on the journey melted away. She did not want to voice it - not yet - but where her mind had belonged to Kangirsuk, her body and her soul would belong only to Morningsong now.

She held him tight in turn until her lungs ached and she drew back, tucking her chin so that her face nuzzled the soft furs of his chest. And then the words came pouring like rain from her cup. She spoke of her father's illness and passing, her mother's sudden death. Details of the their death rafts came next, followed by grievances of lost sisters.

"I have decided to take the name Ulloriaq," she finished. "To honour him and the stars he was a great warrior for." She did not expect him to reply - it was a lot to take in. But where the tears had come freely with Reina, she was surprised to find her cheeks dry. 

It was then that she twisted to cup his paw in hers. "Kukutux spoke to me in Hearthwood. She has told me what has happened. Morningsong - it is yours now?" How must he had felt? Her heart ached; she could only imagine how tumultuous the past weeks had been.

It was strange how heavy the burden of leadership had seemed. He felt lighter now, even with Tulugak heavy against him. The word she poured into him were heavy, too, but he felt stronger for hearing them — for being the one that she spoke to.

"Ulloriaq," he repeated. The back of his neck prickled as if in premonition. "What does it mean?"

But of course, Ulloriaq had questions of her own. He didn't hesitate this time when he said, "Yes." A morning village could not belong to a moondaughter any more than a moon village could have belonged to him. "Things are beginning to settle. Our sunset man still hunts with me, and I think that I have found him a bride — Eira. Shadow girl remains, though she is still quiet. Leith — " He picked his shoulder up in an uneasy shrug. "Silent hunter travels. It hurt her most of all, I think."

He looked down at their paws.

"More have come. Some may stay, but others, I think, will not." He lifted his eyes once more, searching hers. "But you are home — and you make this the home I wanted it to be."

"Many things," she began to explain. The translation to common was tricky as it was with most words from her language, but hopefully Dutch would understand. "Sometimes it means morning - most often it means star. A word for new beginnings also. I thought it would fit me well, though," she added after a beat, "you may call me Tulugak still if you wish."

Some weight lifted off her shoulders as he went on to speak of sunset man and shadow girl, neither which she had spent much time with before. That would be rectified, soon, she promised to herself, along with much needed introductions to the newcomers.

"Ariadne, she-," a deep sigh as her shoulders slumped right back down again. More than often she had willed it to be false; that somehow moonwoman had been wrong. "I do not blame silent hunter." The girl was a great asset to the pack; hopefully she would not depart for good. Her anger for the red woman burned a low fire in her chest. "It is a cowardly thing, to abandon a village of your own making. There are more hurtful words I want to say, but, Morningsong will live on without her. Perhaps, for the better." Following his gaze, she had not realised her claws had begun to pinch his skin and quickly let go.

Nevertheless, her smile was genuine as her eyes met his. "You will have me here in your home, Dutch. Always. I will not leave again," she promised.

The panther was relieved to know he could still call her Tulugak, but — "It does suit you," he said quietly, a hunting look in his eyes. She had renamed herself for her father, but she had changed it also as she came home to him.

Dutch did not want to speak of Ariadne; it was a tired subject for him, by then. He was done being angry at the misdeeds of a girl barely come into womanhood, led astray by an older, wiser man. What had come of it had come, and it had been toilsome until this moment, where it all came to click-click-click into place. Even so, he understood that it was a newer hurt for Tulugak. He hadn't warned her before she left, not wanting to give her another thing to worry about. They paid the price for it now.

"I would listen to your words," he assured her, "hurtful or no."

At her promise, Dutch felt again that swooping, magnetizing pull. Even in the midst of weariness and grief, she shone like starlight in his eyes.

"My heart name is Arjun," he told her, apropos of nothing. "It is what my family calls me when we come together. It means, dawn bright, silver-white, lightning strike."

He would call her Ulloriaq unless it was at a time like this, when they were alone together.

Although it felt comforting to know that he would listen, she did not want to condemn Ariadne's spirit more without hearing her friend's side of the story. The red woman must have had her reasons, no? "Thank you," she ended up saying, a heartfelt smile playing upon her lips. "That means more than you would know."

To be seen and to be heard; it was not something she was used to particularly. But, now that Morningsong was her home, she hoped her opinions would be validated by more than just Dutch.

Her gaze was curious, tracing the lines of his face as he revealed his heart name. He had only ever been Dutch to her. "Arjun," repeating the word until it felt familiar on her tongue. "It is a powerful name." For a powerful man. She would use it if he wished, though some part of her felt it was sacred - private - and was reluctant.

It suited him, however, Ulloriaq found herself hung up on something else he had said. She was tentative, as if knowing she could be reading too much between the lines, yet she itched to know what he was thinking. "Do you see me as family, Dutch?" 

He dipped his head in acknowledgement, though he was not keen to take credit for the name that had been given to him by his parents. Still, he was pleased if liked it, and pleased if she would call him by it, from time to time.

Her question had him reaching for her paw once more. He held hers as she had his, blunted claws curling inward just hard enough to grip.

"You are kin to me, and to all of Morningsong, always," he said, his tone as final as a kind speaking a decree. But when he spoke next, he was only Dutch once more, and a little flustered, at that. "But, if you would have me, I would like to see you as much more."

He didn't know Ulloriaq as well as he ought to. Whatever had budded between them before was still new, previously unspoken. But when she asked, he knew he could not keep it to himself. He'd seen what he needed to see, and he'd heard the spirits' message in the change of her name and the timing of her return.

His burnished gaze searched the deep blue of her eyes. Did she feel the same?

His touch drew a shaky breath as she anticipated an answer. What came, at first, was formal and appeared well-practiced. Perhaps, he said the same to all who joined Morningsong - not that it would have surprised her. Dutch had always been a kind man with an even kinder heart. 

What was said next, however, had her confused. He wanted more...than kin? What was there that would mean more than kin to him? Her mind raced, her bewilderment clear in wrinkle of her brow. Certainly, she valued him as she would family. Never before had she met someone that understood her more than her sisters.

She thought of the time she had kissed him. It had nothing more than a soft touch of goodbye - hadn't it? Besides, he had not mentioned it after besides in song...

Ulloriaq came to the conclusion that he was, perhaps, more of a stranger than she had thought. There was so much that she did not know, and did not know how to know.

"What... what do you mean by that?" she spoke after a long moment of pause. Where her words had flown freely, now were catching in her throat.

It was not quite the reaction he'd hoped for, but not surprising to him, either. Dutch cleared his throat, praying that it would not crack as he went on:

"I would court you, if that pleased you," he said, wishing now that he'd given her a chance to settle in once more. She was grieving, and she needed a friend — "But forgive me, Ulloriaq. I — I spoke too soon, and it is nothing you need to worry about right now."

His grip loosened a fraction, but he did not pull away.

"You are home," he said again, reiterating this, "and you are family. Nothing could change this."

Ah. Whatever she had been expecting, it had not been a proposal of marriage.

When the penny dropped, Ulloriaq found her gaze glued to the ground in shame, cheeks burning. Suddenly, the pebbles beneath her seems far more interesting than whatever situation this reunion has turned into.

"I have never given marriage much thought, Dutch. I have seen what love can do to people - it is ugly and cruel. And still you ask this of me?" Feeling blindsided, she refused to meet his gaze until an apology followed soon after.  "Forgive me, also, but you do not know me and nor I, you." Her voice held no malice, and as he stuttered and softened, she could not help but tighten her grip on him in some form of comforting gesture.

"I would like that to change, though." If it would please her to be courted by him; she could not say yet, though the spark she had let smoulder reignited at the thought.

At only one point did Dutch find anything to disagree with in her words. It was this that brought a tiny frown to his face, but not one that lingered long. He listened, as he had promised to do, and turned her words over once, twice in his mind before he replied:

"I think that people can be ugly and cruel," he said at length. "Perhaps I am naive to think that I will not be. But I do not believe that it is love on its own that is the cause. I think that love is the answer."

His smile was wry, but true and without any trace of hurt feelings.

"Even if it is the platonic love of kinship," he assured once more. Truly, if that was all she was willing to entertain, Dutch could live with that. "I would like to know you, too, Tulugak. Ulloriaq," he said, his tail sweeping the snow. "But first, I would like to see you fed and rested. Come and eat?"

He drew away only enough to turn toward the inner territories, and then he waited for her to step beside him.

"Many faces have changed," he said. "I can tell you about them, if you are not too road-weary to hear."

Images of her mother's face so peaceful in death came to mind. To love a man so much that you would throw yourself to the waves - it scared her more than she had realised. "I apologise - I think it is the grief speaking," she sighed. "It is tricky; love can turn a cruel man good, and sometimes a good man cruel."

But, he had agreed to know her! Her tail beat a happy rhythm in the snow, eager to explore every part of his mind and soul in the coming days. She thought of exploring his body too, but quickly dismissed it the best she could.

"I already feel much kinship with you," she agreed, nodding quickly at his offer of food. "I will need a few days to - adjust. And to think on it. My mind, it is filled with fog. But, it is nothing a good meal cannot fix."

At this she grinned and rose to join him. "I am never too weary to hear you. Tell me about them."

The panther frowned. "Perhaps," he allowed, but he had been taught that these things were not love; only selfishness disguised as it. He did not know the extent of Ulloriaq's worries. Either way, he did not want to argue with her then, when he should not have said anything on the matter in the first place.

Guiltily, he realized he was glad it was out in the open, even if it had shocked her. There, he thought, was the selfishness. Perhaps there was more to Ulloriaq's claims that he'd first thought.

"And I, you," he readily agreed, his tail whisking. He turned to lead them back toward the common place, and to the caves that opened up into the icy mountain nearby. "You will have rest here," he said, stealing another worried glance at her. "And fresh meat. I hunted — I have hunted, I think, since I first heard your call!"

He told her about the new faces among them: Simbelmyne, who thus far stayed as a guest. Hototo, the loud-mouthed but charming refugee. Eira, who was sweet and diligent, and who was quickly winning their sunset man's heart. His father, Aditya, who was as much fun as a bucket of fish — and had always been, according to his mother. Finally, "And there's Nephele." There was a look on his face. A look that said he'd been taught manners, and that among them were the old adage: If you don't have anything nice to say, don't say anything at all.

"She's a hard read," he said, a slight change in accent suggesting this was a borrow term. "She came to us in search of a place to have her first litter. In her last pack, she was a negotiator." His uncertainties over her inclusion in the pack were clear, but it was not a matter he found very pressing.

"Also with us is Sulukinak," he went on, his tone lightening. "I don't know if you met her. She's a strange one, too, but a sweet spirit, I think. I have grown very fond of her. She and Fallen Sun — we would not have lasted long without them. Nor without Leith, though he sometimes gets wrapped up in his studies — he still hunts. We all hunt."

And Towhee Junior.

Dutch didn't know what to say about her.

His answer was short, but contemplative. Did he disagree with her? Though a wanderer, her path had not led her to love. It was to say, that she was no expert at it and had only an outsider's view on how it was supposed to be. There were her parents, and the bachelors she had met along the road - all with eyes for someone other than herself. Was it selfish of her to believe that Dutch would - that he could love her? Why her?

All things she would untangle later but, for now, they raced through her foggy mind as they climbed to the village. She had missed this place - and him - truly. "Ay, I am expecting a whole herd of reindeer to be waiting for me then!" Behind the jest her gaze was filled with warmth. 

"Your father is here?" she interjected, her face tightening in a mixture of surprise and something unreadable as she listened curiously to his descriptions. She wanted to tell him of her own father, then, but found the words catch in her throat. Instead, she focused curiously on the woman known as Nephele. His expression drew a puff of breath from her nose; it was hard to judge someone she hadn't met, but she would keep his words in mind.

"Perhaps, I will ask her to negotiate our next battle of sticks," she quipped, "I hope you have not forgotten about our rematch." There would be children here come spring. With Ariadne gone - it made sense - though she selfishly wished cloud woman's own would be born here for her to dote on.

Sulukinak. Fallen Sun. Leith. Familiar names matched to blurry faces. "I did not get to spend much time with them," she admitted, voice tinged with regret. "But, I am curious to know what you see in Sulukinak; she is a northern woman, yes?" Perhaps, they would get along as she had with Ariadne!

As their conversation trailed off as they neared the common place, Tulugak touched her tail lightly to his hocks. "I only wish I could have been here for you too." 

There was not a whole herd of anything waiting for her, but there was plenty enough to gorge herself, if she wanted. He would bring fresh meat, too — he wanted to tell her so, but perhaps it needn't be voiced aloud. Of course he would.

"Yes," he said of his father; "I never saw much of him, growing up. This is perhaps the longest we have ever dwelled together. Aditya is the flighty sort."

This was a fact, and not something Dutch had much of an opinion on. He knew how he wanted to live his life, but he did not resent Aditya for his inability (or perhaps lack of desire) to stick around. The black bear had chosen him twice now in spite of this.

At the idea of Nephele mediating their battle of sticks, Dutch could only snicker. It was an idea, though. One that might bring some levity to the glacier in the coming days.

"She is from the Everdark," he said if Sulukinak, "Further north even than the land of long nights, I believe. She is still learning to be with others — but she speaks her mind."

When they stood near the village center, he offered her a weak but genuine smile.

"I wish I could have gone with you," he replied. "But we are both here, now."

Her lips quirked in a small smile as he described his father. What struck her most was how different he seemed from her own father. Where hers had left to hunt, there had always been the unspoken promise that he would return swiftly to a warm hearth. His, it seemed, was quite the opposite. 

Ulloriaq's expression remained pensive. "For your sake, may he stick around for a while longer, then. But I will not expect much." Quite selfishly, she hoped that Dutch had taken more after his mother than father and was not the flighty kind. So far, that theory had been proven true.

The more information she knew about Sulukinak, the more apprehensive she felt about the shadow woman. The Everdark; she had heard tales of such a place. None of them had been good. "I would like to speak with her most, I think," she confessed, keen to see what the northwoman's own story was and if, perhaps, it differed from her understanding. "Though, I will meet with them all. Newcomers and old faces." 

His next words very nearly brought tears to her eyes. If she had known - back then - maybe she could have persuaded him-? She shook her head. "Ay, that is all that matters now. I would not have wanted you to see what I saw."

The panther too hoped that his father would stick around — but his feelings would not be hurt if he failed to do so. His mother had, perhaps, done too good a job of convincing him that Aditya made these decisions outside the bounds of reality. Therefore he had little to say on the matter, glad that Tulugak was content to expect as little as he did.

On Sulukinak, he was a little more vocal. Something in the woman's voice told him it wouldn't be for hair-braiding and gossip, but — "I think that would be good for her," he said, agreeing in his own way that there was something in the girl that needed to be addressed.

He could see no good coming of arguing further about staying or going. He still wished that he could have been with her. Still thought, somewhere deep inside, that it might have been better for all of them. But he only had the present to work with, and so it was what he did now that mattered most. So he pressed his shoulder to hers, taking comfort as much as offering it.

The quietness surrounding Aditya spoke more than words ever could. It was hard to put herself in the shoes of someone who did not grow up with a father. Though, she supposed, she would have to navigate a life without him, as much as Dutch now had to navigate one with him.

She did not say more on Sulukinak, only nodding in agreement and half-wishing he would be there when they spoke. But, she was more than happy to meet the girl alone. Perhaps, she may even say more that way, or not. It was too early to tell.

The touch drew her back to earth and she welcomed it with a soft sigh. Already Dutch had become like a rock to her; his presence would only grow more steady she was sure. "Come, let us eat," she bumped his hip as if to say, let's go! "And then, you can help me find a sleeping place, yes? Maybe your taste in iglus will be better than mine."