Stone Circle It all lies in ruin

Sven stood staring at teh place where his father lay buried. And deep deep shame colored his heart and his mind. He tilted his head forward and sniffed. Once. Twice. He would remember home. He was the last of the Lodbruk's left here on this soil. His brothers, his sister gone. His mother gone. His father gone. Four of them at least he hoped above all hope they were alive out there somewhere.

He rubbed at teh dirt and then shifted and lifted his head. Steel gray eyes on the land that his father had fought for. Had raised them in. And he chirruped softly. 

Lifting his head. A soulful soft howl rang out. Then he would take a few more minutes. One more lope around the pack lands. Then fill what furs he could and carry and he'd be off. Forneskja perhaps or maybe just be alone for a time. His father had whispered stories to him of apack on the short ran by sea queens. That might be worth a visit. If any were alive who knew his father.

She anticipated a journey to the coast- but it was curiosity that drew her to roam further inland. She was skittish still as she travelled- having a massive blind spot now made her more wary of any unexpected sounds. It was this insecurity that she knew she should face, and that she might have to do it on her own. 

The hulking girl was shocked, when she arrived in the plains, to notice only a wisp of scent where Kvarsheim’s borders used to be. Tattered ears swayed forward and back as she meandered along, noting the scent of Sven and Inkeri; the latter was fading. 

She snapped to attention at the sound of the young leader’s howl, alarm pulling her lips into a tight line. She responded, a questioning tone in her voice, though she was clever enough to understand what was happening. 

Kvarsheim had fallen; only one remained behind, and not likely for very long.

Sven did not know what awaited him in the lands of teekon. He knew he wouldn't go far. But it hurt right now to be standing on a ghost of what his father had wanted. A tilt of downy ear.

Already Kvarsheim was fading. The scents of others. His siblings his friends. And it sickened him.

A howl folded around him. And hope sparse and burning lit along. But he quickly realized it was not a member of Kvarsheim, but still a friend.

He turned and trotted towards it. Steel eyes taking in all that was around. A small smile for the she wolf. 

Hello Cygnet.

She waited, fighting with an unbidden urge to flee and pretend she hadn’t come looking for him at all. She found herself flustered when she caught sight of him approaching, a surprising fluttering in her belly made her want to tear her own innards out just to make it stop. Her cropped tail wagged, faintly at first, but the closer he came the more it turned into a whirligig, causing even her hind quarters to sway from the force.

She uttered a grumbling note that was more affectionate in tone than she’d intended as she moved to greet him. Her ears fell back, and she flicked her tongue over her lips, flashing her teeth in a grimace that expressed both how happy she was to see him, and how disgusted she was with her physical reaction.

More perplexing still was the way his cute little freckles made her want to tear him to shreds, but the silver of his eyes caused such a weakness in her knees that she buckled slightly, as if cowering to show him submission. She pressed her snarling jaws to the corner of his lips as a greeting, seething hot breath through her bared teeth. Touch felt like a static shock; she stepped back.

Where pack? She barked. So frazzled by the sensation singing through her veins, she’d lost control over the volume of her voice, and had defaulted to a gruff tone often reserved for Arric and Akavir.

There was no denying that Cygnet was a strange duck. But he liked her well enough. And she had always treated him well. Because he wasn't always liked by others. Whether hos way of approaching things or his father's later days when he bungled some things.

Cygnet was not a conversationalist by any stretch of the imagination. But that was alright. Sven could mostly understand. He wasn't sure at first how to greet her. She seemed both irritated at him and also delighted to see him. So he gave her a soft nudge and a lick to her cheek. Then retreated so teeth didn't take face.

Truthfully her eyes would have fit well with his pelt. But as such they were a startling contrast to her white pelt. Pretty even the closed one.

A soft sigh as he settled to his paws. Curling tail about hocks. The freckles along his shoulders wrippling faintly.

We did not have enough numbers. Too many leaving.