Moonspear or something deep inside is dying

Chapter Two: Kaylan learns punctuation.

He had accepted Charon's position as Jarl some time ago, but Kaylan still remained in self-imposed exile— he was still learning, all those social cues and rules that he had lost to the storm and its subsequent isolation, and to reside within the pack proper was yet too overwhelming. And so he slept beyond the borders, daring only to step just inside the borders, and spending much of his time marking them. If ever there were desperate lone wolves at the borders, too weak to be of use, or obviously seeking to raid caches and no more, he had been quick to chase them off. Luckily, it had never come to blows— he was no stranger to combat, but in the beginning he had not been in any condition to truly partake.

His interaction was limited to @Charon, @Wildfire, or @Floki— they brought him food that he was unable to hunt for himself. Kaylan was still a beast of few words, though he perhaps graced Freyja with the most conversation. Even then, it was difficult for him, but not so difficult as it was to speak to his brothers. He was healing, slowly, but pack life was still an alien world to the viking. And so he kept his distance, though he knew that Charon's patience was waning day by day.

It was fortunate, then, that when Kaylan awoke this dawn with a strength returned— enough that he felt confident in body, if not mind, to venture into the reaches of the Moonspear. With a stretch, he emerged from his den, and drew near a tree to relieve his bladder. He looked, then, up the mountain— readying himself— before moving to find the trail upward, the path marked by the scents of the pack mates he had yet to truly know.

Floki's world had been turned upside down in the last few weeks. His promotion to Beta had changed his life indefinitely; he now spent the majority of his time with Charon, learning all he could from his older brother. He simultaneously did his best to avoid Tevinter, still smarting from the fight with his twin. For the first time in their lives, they didn't see eye to eye on something, and it hurt.

In addition, Wildfire had encouraged him to help Kaylan adjust to pack life. At first, he had avoided his white-furred sibling, but she gently coaxed him into delivering food to Kaylan whenever he was able. He had been resistant in the beginning, but now he found himself yearning to get to know Kaylan better, especially in the wake of what had happened with Tevinter.

He was surprised on this particular day when he came across Kaylan's scent weaving towards the mountain itself. The wayward boy had lingered near the outskirts for some time, remaining secluded as he gained strength. Floki began to follow Kaylan's scent, though apprehension bloomed in his chest at the thought of a real interaction with his estranged sibling.

Kaylan began to climb, reveling in the feel of it— the way it made his muscles bend, so differently than he was used to. He missed the salt of the sea, that which had imprinted upon him so long ago in his youth, but the tall shadow was intriguing. It made his progress slow, for he would pause to investigate the newness of the place, following the scent markings left by his pack mates. His heart fluttered, anxious that he would meet one of his pack mates— afraid, but knowing full well it was an inevitability and continuing on anyway.

A marker directed him both forwards and upwards, and another led him to the right— up to the mountain's summit, or right to a rocky outcropping. He glanced upwards, knowing that was the true path, but in the end chose to step toward the outcropping. In truth, it was to give his nerves a break, but the beast told himself that it was to simply enjoy the view. From here, he could see the ocean, and he felt something peculiar in his chest as he gazed upon it.

As Floki tracked Kaylan, he moved almost effortlessly up the mountainside. Navigating the rocky terrain had become second nature to him in the short time he had called Moonspear home. It was distinctly different from the gritty sand of Stavanger Bay, but he had adapted to it quickly and was as sure-footed as if he had spent his entire life on the slope.

He knew many of the trails that wound their way towards the peak, but there were still some that were unfamiliar. He paused at a fork in the road, nostrils flaring as he determined which way Kaylan had gone. For a moment, he considered taking the other route, leaving his brother to his own devices, but he forged ahead and took the path to the right. In just a few moments, he came to a natural outcropping and found Kaylan gazing out over the landscape.

Knowing that the feral wolf could be skittish, he left a great deal of space between them when he halted. Over Kaylan's shoulder, he could see the ocean and felt a pang of nostalgia as he spoke quietly: "Hey, brother." His body language was passive, communicating that he was not a threat.

He strained to catch a taste of salt in the breeze, desperately hoping that it would transport him back to the days when he had been a mere cub -- wrestling with his brothers and his sisters, training even then to become a warrior. It was a skill important to their culture, to be sure, but it had been lighter back then. A choice.

The storm had stolen the choice, his family, and the sea from him. Kaylan could only fight, train, kill - if he did not, he would not have survived. He did not know it, but his malnourishment had forced his body to destroy the less vital areas of his mind to make energy; base instinct was most of what remained. New socialization would bring him closer to normalcy over time, but Kaylan would always remain changed.

He started at the unexpected words, and spun with hackles risen and posture ready to defend and throw his opponent. But it was Floki that greeted him, and with a posture that indicated he was no threat. The white beast forced himself to relax; the berserker rage faded, but he still looked uncomfortable.

"Floki," he tested the name, a returned greeting. He did not yet have the trust to call him brother.

Kaylan's response was physical first, a tensing of his muscles that indicated that Floki had startled him. More than any other wolf that Floki had met, his white-furred brother relied on instinct. For that reason, he responded with body language, giving his tail tip a gentle wiggle and allowing his ears to splay harmlessly to either side.

He was relieved when Kaylan called him by name, though he still did not move to close the gap between them. He could see that his littermate remained uneasy on some level and didn't wish to crowd him or make him more uncomfortable. "How do you like Moonspear?" he asked, his question sounding stilted even to him. It was hard to make conversation with someone that he should have been effortlessly close to; but life had gotten in the way.