Wapun Meadow Honey, You're Familiar like my Mirror Years Ago

Backdated to Febuary, before this thread.

With a spring in his step and curiosity in his heart, Moss set out on his patrol, eager to explore every nook and cranny of the thawing territory. The wind whipped through the valley, carrying with it tales of faraway places and things, and the little wolf was there to listen intently. Every rustle below and chirp above called to him, beckoning him farther from home with open, waiting arms.

And then, like a gift from the heavens, he had stumbled upon it—a long, delicate feather glistening in the dappled sunlight. It was a woodpecker's, they had realized with excitement. He could already picture the curiosity sparkling in the children's eyes as he showed them, teaching them about the funny little bird with the long beak.

After tucking the new trinket into his whip-like tail with a triumphant grin, Moss had resumed his journey, sage eyes glued to the underbrush for any other treasures waiting to be discovered.

They had continued on in this manner until they had reached the meadow, sun-drenched and alive with the scent of flowers. Moss paused once more, this time in search of something special—a berry bush he had encountered before the snowfall had blanketed the land.

There is something to be said about those who appreciate the world around them. To find the smallest of things in a sweeping landscape and to treasure it wholeheartedly. This sincere quality of the little wolf was what drew the attention of Vale in her own wanderings.

Vale kept her distance. Gilded gaze looking beyond the traveling figure of Moss to the meadow in its entirety. The battle between winter and spring that raged closest to the Sunspires. Winter was strongest where shadows fell and weakest under the sun's brilliance. Snow blanketed the ground in uneven patches. From where she stood on the far side of the meadow, a cold mountain breeze still ruffled her pelt.

The meadowland under the claim of spring grew a vibrant green. Well-watered by snowmelt, the land thrived. Through the snow, stubborn tufts of green flora staked their claim. Gaining ground in the battle. Where the land grew strongest, an arsenal of flower buds was under creation. A stockpile to bloom in waves throughout the spring in summer months.

Vale's eyes fell once more to her packmate. Her mouth began to part—oh! Had he always been that far away?

Picking up her paws, Vale closed the distance and announced herself with a friendly woof. Falling in line with Moss's flank, she could seen the lingering smile on their face and immediately formed one upon her own.

The meadow is quite a sight, isn't it?

Miss Vale! Moss exclaimed with a bright twinkle in his sage-green eyes. He greeted her with a gentle headbutt, an unusual yet heartfelt gesture that carried all of the warmth and affection he held for his Kvarsheim family. I know! Isn't it just breathtaking out here? Come see what I found!

Moss nudged aside a tuft of long grass, revealing a cluster of spikey leaves hidden beneath. See these? Do you think it might be a strawberry bush? 

Stepping aside to give Vale a clear view, Moss awaited her opinion, their tail wagging eagerly. I hope it is, they continued excitedly. They'll be nice to have as a treat over the summer. We'll just have to make sure we get them before the rabbits do. He grinned, imagining sharing the sweet fruit amongst his packmates.

Vale's chin brushed atop Moss's head as they lowered their crown to her, laughing all the while at the affectionate greeting. She had not spent much time yet with the Læknir but they radiated warmth in a way befitting a caretaker. Her lip curved as mirth played across her face. Ears cupping forward inquisitively as Moss made way to share their discovery.

At the reveal of the bush Vale nosed the leaves. Her brow knitting as she attempted to identify the bush. It hadn't even begun to flower yet. Hmm... I can't say for certain, but it could be!

She skirted the bush, pulling aside the grass to see if there were others like it in the vicinity. With her brief search coming up short, she turned to Moss.

This bush might be in hot demand come summer. Her tail waved idly behind her. It would be a shame if there weren't any berries to share. Had she seen any other bushes in the valley? She couldn't recall.

Across the mountains, however...

Oh, Bramblepoint!

As though Moss was privy to her inner musings, he blurted the name out loud with a triumphant glitter to her eye. When the rest of her mind caught up with her she eagerly gestured to the Sunspire Mountains with her paw.

In the wilderness across the mountains there's a great, big orchard! It's full of fruit trees and berry bushes! Even if you go before they fruit, the blossoms are beautiful.

Moss paused, lost in thought, trying to recall if they had encountered such a place during their journey to the wedding in the desert palace. His brow furrowed slightly, eyes distant as he sifted through his memories.

After a moment, they sighed softly, a quiet note of regret lacing their words, I don’t think I’ve ever heard of it, he admitted, his voice tinged with wistful curiosity. He tilted his head back, eyes tracing the patterns of the drifting clouds as if they might jog his memory. It sounds incredibly beautiful, though. I'd love to visit sometime. 

His green eyes, bright and curious, returned to the woman's warm amber ones, sparkling with a hopeful glint. Maybe when the weather is a bit warmer, you could take me there? They suggested, their tone light and inviting. I can only imagine how lovely it must be with the trees in full bloom. between all of the colors and the sweet air, it must feel like a slice of paradise.

I bet it's the kind of place where time seems to slow down and every moment feels like a memory in the making, Moss continued, his voice taking on a dreamy quality, picturing the orchard in his mind's eye. It sounds like the perfect place for a quiet afternoon, just soaking in the beauty of nature, you know? Maybe we could even find a spot to sit and share stories. That would be nice, he mused, a faraway smile playing on his lips. 

As Moss retreated within the depths of his own mind palace, Vale kept her gaze upon him. His expression fell, even as their eyes floated upwards to join the passing clouds. She too turned her sights to the sky as the drifting clouds floated along in a pale blue sea.

When Moss met her eyes once more a smile stretched across her face at the invitation. I would love to return. Just know that it will be far more than a day's trip. Her ears cupped towards them as they mused out loud. Moss's daydreams being laid bare from the wellspring of their mind.

In many ways his mental image was correct. Vale closed her eyes and returned to the thick forest. Fresh blossoms covered the trees and bushes. The deep forest greens dappled with snowy white and pale pink. Soft petals scattered across the forest floor as one walked and the air was sweet and floral. It was a lovely memory, but it was not without its shadow.

Opening her eyes, a knit formed on her brow. Apologetic. Her tone matched her expression as she gently warned the Læknir, It is lovely, yes. But you do have to withstand becoming a pricker bush to get around the forest. The tip of her tail brushed against his flank, her expression brightening. Although, it is easier to endure the thorns when you have good company.

I find a lot of things to be like that, The wolf replied softly, blinking back to the present with a serene expression. Having good company really does make most things easier to bear, they mused. It's like when you're carrying something heavy, and someone comes along to help you. Even if they only take a small piece it's easier to manage, you know? 

He grinned, meeting Vale's gaze for a second before beginning to pad softly through the field, the flowers swaying gently around his paws. Or like when you're in a bad spot, and everything around you is dark and uncertain, you have a light to come back to, Moss continued thoughtfully, and it was clear that his thoughts had expanded beyond just a briar patch.

The wolf paused, taking a deep breath of the fresh, fragrant air, holding it deep within their lungs for a moment before letting it all out with a gentle puff. Think about those times when you're caught in a storm, he said, eyes wandering between multicolored blooms. The wind howling, rain pouring down, and you're so small and powerless. It feels like you might be blown away. But then, you find shelter with someone, and suddenly, the storm outside doesn’t seem quite so frightening. You can face it because you’re not alone.

Moss turned his gaze back to Vale, his eyes filled with a gentle intensity. It's kind of the same with life, isn't it? Having someone who really cares can make a lot of difference. They don't necessarily make the problems go away, but they do make them less scary. He paused, a soft smile curling around the edges of his lips, After all, you can't avoid the storms, you just have to find someone who will stick with you through them.

Vale followed Moss loosely at their shoulder as they proceeded into the meadow. Both their mind and feet wandering. She remained quiet. Listening attentively as they expanded upon their thoughts and outlook. A metaphorical storm produced to accentuate his point.

In the midst of their thought experiment Vale's own thoughts turned to her father. A gentle, guiding hand when navigating their mountain home. Generous with his patience towards his children, yet consistent in his teachings. Her heart warmed to recall the grace in which he could dance along the precipice, whether it was rain, snow, or shine. Perhaps some part of Moss's good nature reminded her of him.

When Moss turned to her, she returned his smile. When she spoke it was not to contradict, but to expand upon the idea placed on the table. I don't think wolves in general are meant to be lonely creatures, but there are times we still have to weather a storm alone.

She took the lead in their wanderings now. Pale paws crossing the open meadow. In between the open blooms with their vibrant colors remained the closed buds. Hidden potential waiting to be unleashed in the coming months.

Where I was born we were raised to expect the storms. They brought with them strong winds and could loosen the very earth of the mountainside. It was often that fog would pool along our paths and we would have to be careful with our feet.

Golden eyes lifted to meet sage green before darting to a small rise in the meadow. Not a true hill but more of a mound with a flattened top. A place to sit. She gently guided them through the flowers to this resting place.

Without my parents I would have never learned how to survive that kind of life, but now I must continue to live well beyond their reach. There are certain people in your life that will help you through the storms, even if they can no longer be with us. Vale settled down on the rise, sitting back she invited Moss to take a seat besides her.

There are all sorts of people to be found to help you through a storm. Whether they can be there by your side or give you the tools to get through it, they're all special in a way, don't you think?

When it was Vale's turn to lead, Moss followed along beside her, ear twitching to catch all of her words, and small head nodding along as she spoke.

His gaze drifted out upon the sea of growing blooms before focusing on a small golden one. He plucked it gently between his teeth before turning to catch up with Vale. Very special, the wolf agreed with a hum, settling beside her. I think. they began, that even if they can't be with us in body, they're with us in soul, he explained, mind slipping back to his own family with a nostalgic smile. He missed them.

It sounds like your parents taught you well, Moss complimented, shifting to offer her the flower. Here, it kinda matches your eyes, they grinned.

A wistful look crossed his face and Vale sounded her agreement to his statement with a gentle hum. Her gaze drifts to the flowering field, preserving the moment's quiet. Moss's words were as bitter as they were sweet, stirring up an old melancholy from within her bones. This she did not voice. Sensing that, perhaps, they carried a sadness of their own.

Her ears piqued as Moss presented her with the little golden bloom. A wag of her tail against the grassy knoll they settled upon.

Oh! Thank you! She gently took the flower from him, weaving the stalk between her paws. She scrutinized the color, curious on how Moss perceived her eyes. It wasn't like she had an easy time looking at them. She broke her attention from the flower to her companion. It's not quite a fair game you presented. I'm not sure I'd find a flower to match your's.

Her eyes leveled out to the field. Green grass. Green flower buds. Green leaves. But flowers? None that she could see.

Congrats on 90 posts! Nearly to 100 woop!

I s'ppose not, they replied with a laugh, drawing a foreleg over their head to scratch at an itch behind their ear. But that's alright. I think a flower kind of matches you, he mused contentedly, their voice warm and sincere. Sweet and pretty, y'know? Moss continued, his gaze tracing the dance of birds through the sky, a soft smile on his lips.

Hmm... Maybe if you wanted to, you could find something else, he suggested, his eyes narrowing thoughtfully as he scanned the ground around them. Like a rock or something.

They paused, considering the possibilities. Or maybe a feather? Moss added, his eyes lighting up with the idea. I found one earlier, he said, pulling up his tail beside him to show her.

She couldn't keep the smile on her face from growing as she listened to Moss's musings. A rock? Her head tilted. There's not too many good places to go sifting through pebbles here in the meadow.

The movement of their tail drew her eyes down to the feather at the mention of it. She hummed to herself as she considered the birds she knew. Setting her paws upon the ground once more, Vale leaned closer to Moss. Gilded eyes crinkled at the corners as they assessed sage green. Hmm, Mallard green might be a bit too vibrant, but we can always look, right?

Vale's eyes dropped down to her paws again. With a gentle hand, she threaded the gifted flower into the fur of her own tail. Content that it was secure, she swiftly took to her paws, bounding forward a few strides. She glanced over her shoulder, back to him. Well, shall we go?

Mallard... green? Moss repeated with a blink, their head tilting in curiosity. Huh, he considered, giving a small shrug. I guess we can.

A grin spread across the wolf's muzzle, their eyes lighting up excitedly. With a thump of his tail, Moss swayed to his paws and bounded forward to catch up with Vale. The energy in his movements was infectious, his eagerness palpable. Lead the way, Miss Vale!

There is a liveliness in Moss's energy, resonating through the air and swept by the breeze. While the wistful moment came and went, the joy was just as pleasant.

Vale waited for them to catch up, eyes lingering up their small frame for a moment. She was determined to discover on a feather to match their eye color. What birds could the two of them find in the meadow? There were many to be sure, but green was specific.

A briskness to her step, Vale set them into to motion. Gilded eyes scouring the field a large before narrowing in on a small shapes that swooped through the open blooms. Oh so tiny and oh so swift. Vale shot Moss a smile, a paw lifted in front of her lip. Shhh.

Her movements slowed, moseying through the flowers until she came to a stop. Ears cupped forward, trying to catch the wingbeats of the tiny, Calliope hummingbirds. She looked to her side to be sure that Moss had followed.

She leaned to him, voice hushed. It might be hopeless to find a stray feather, but in absence of a mallard duck, what do you think of hummingbirds?

Sorry for dropping the ball on this one

Moss settled down quietly beside Vale, his movements slow as he sank into the grass. He nodded in acknowledgment as she signaled for quiet, understanding the need for stillness. Their gaze followed hers, tracing the dance of the tiny creatures flitting through the air, wings shimmering in the sunlight, each glint a jeweled spark against the azure backdrop.

Beautiful, he whispered, his voice barely more than a breath and filled with wonder as he watched the small beings hover and dart about.
He turned to Vale, a nostalgic smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

When I was little, I thought if you were still enough, they’d land on you, they murmured, a hint of amusement coloring their tone. Like butterflies.

A faint huff of laughter escaped him, his breath stirring the grass at his feet. He could almost see himself as a pup again, crouched low in a meadow just like this, holding his breath in the hopes that a hummingbird might choose him as a resting place.

It's funny how you think the world works when you're young.

I do not think hummingbirds truly ever rest, Vale whispered to Moss, eyes bright at their appreciation of the fast, little birds. She of course knew that they had to stop and lay eggs at some point, they were birds after all. They had to have come from eggs at some point. How do you think they see the world? Do you think it's a blur, like their wings?

An air of nostalgia overcomes the caretaker again, Vale smiles in response. I think even as you get older the world works in funny ways. Just not how you think it does when you are small.

I had a brother in my litter, Vale murmured, revealing a part of her own history. I remember how he used to slander butterflies. Adamant that they were ugly and plain. Her eyes brightened, creased at the corners as her lips curved. I still remember his face when one landed on his nose. How he froze in place, eyes widened in awe. Not an ounce of disdain to be seen.

It must be, the little wolf agreed, his voice low and thoughtful, like running all the time and never stopping.

He watched as the darting flashes of color zipped through the air. You know, that's very true, he added with a smile, sage eyes tracking the delicate movements of the tiny, winged creatures as they flitted between the blossoms.

Moss turned his gaze to Vale, one good ear perked, listening as she shared a glimpse of her past. They watched her closely, her words bringing with them a string of amusement. There was an urge to chuckle, a warmth in his chest that bloomed into a soft exhale, careful not to startle the birds.

Did he have a change of heart after that? Moss asked, the corners of their mouth lifting into a gentle, knowing smile, eyes twinkling with shared humor.