Moonspear It isn't very often

Intended for @Treepie

The winter's cold fought on, but so did Hakumele.

He was beginning to gain strength, leaving the ulaq more often and for far longer. His legs were growing used to the terrain, his claws growing used to the local critters.

The shark knew well that he would likely never return to his peak; Kai Ahi had been his hayday, and now it was long gone. His time on Witch Island had put him out of practice.

Traipsing the lower peaks of the mountain, he paused momentarily to shake the snow from his thin coat.

Treepie found patrols rather boring. But they were necessary, so she stuck to her schedule and entertained herself by singing songs or creating poems on the fly, usually haikus. On occasion, she let herself get lost in a daydream, relying on muscle memory to steer her on her course as her mind wandered away.

She fantasized about weddings on this snowy mid-morning. It began with imagining her relative’s upcoming nuptials. Then she wondered about her own far-off wedding day. It was hard to picture, with no frame of reference, but Pie mostly caught herself trying to picture her ideal spouse.

Movement snared her attention, snapping her out of her daydream. Treepie smiled when she recognized Hakumele, then seized the chance to distract herself from this particularly uneventful patrol.

Haku! Hello! How are you? the young woman queried as she pranced closer.

The familiar voice of Pie reached his ears, Hakumele turning his head to meet her. Slowing his pace to allow her to catch up, his tail waved at his hocks. I'm well, feeling much better than I was. Now if only his coat would thicken up!

How have you been, hunting well? A poke at their previous meeting. Maybe she had caught a peeker since then; he could do with a good victory story.

He shook off a shiver, resuming his comfortable pace a moment later.

That’s great! Treepie exclaimed, beaming. But the expression slid right off her face by the next breath as she worried aloud, Wait, does this mean you’ll be leaving soon to resume your search for your daughter?

He wanted to know how her hunting had been going. She flashed him a smile in answer. Hunting would never be her strongest suit, yet she was decent enough. There was nothing particularly exciting to talk about there, though, and she would much rather discuss his upcoming plans.

He frowns at her question. I suppose it might. At the end of the moon Hokulani would come of age, though. Time was running out. But, I like Moonspear too. If others would have me I'm sure I would come back. It was far nicer than the island ever had been.

He pauses now, looking out at the landscape beyond the spear. Only issue is that I don't know where Hokulani would have gone. She's a.. unpredictable girl. Reckless was the better word. Her attention was not easily held; by now she had surely wandered from Reverie.

His frown forecast bad news, though he tacked on an optimistic note. Treepie decided to keep that top of mind. She hated to see him—or anyone else, for that matter—go, though at least he said he would come back if he was welcome.

Of course we’d want you to come back! she said, maybe a little too loudly. Clearing her throat, Pie continued, I’d rather you didn’t leave at all, though I totally get it. I’ve wanted to go out looking for those who’ve left. You just want to make sure she’s okay.

Tiuttuk fell silent, thinking. She wouldn’t have the first clue where to look, either, not just where it concerned Hokulani but anyone else who’d vanished into the ether without a word. Why couldn’t everyone just stay, or at the very least, give some indication where they were going, how long they’d be gone or whether they planned to return at all?

Before you leave, make sure to come find me first, Pie said almost a little heatedly. Catching herself, she explained, So many go without a word. I just want to be able to say goodbye.

He gives a small nod, pondering with a clenched jaw. Hokulani is nothing if not frustrating. Her mother asked me to come. He says, his gaze holding on the landscape. I told my daughter not to go, but I was content to let her learn from her own actions. Sometimes it was necessary.

Now he looks back to Treepie, allowing a gentle smile to cross his muzzle. It felt cruel to allow his previous cold expression to settle on the poor girl. I am not one to leave without prior warning, I'll be sure to say goodbye. Though, he hoped he would not be gone from his comfortable new life for long.

What are you doing out here though, Pie? He asks, raising an eyebrow. Someone give you a job?

Hakumele swore he wouldn’t leave without a farewell. Placated, Treepie bobbed her head. She was about to ask him a question when he posed one of his own, pushing hers from her mind entirely. The word “job” tickled her.

Actually, she told him, face brightening once more, I’m working on proving my merit as a leader. If you have any advice to give me, I’m all ears. Have you ever been a leader, Haku? Even if you haven’t, I’d love to hear what traits you think make for a good one.

A leader, huh? He responds, smiling. I was never one, but my father, Makamele, was a chief. He taught me quite a bit.

At one point in time, Hakumele would have followed the same path.

So long as you don't mind second-hand advice, I don't mind sharing. He thought his father a wise man, and though some things were more specific to Kai Ahi, he was sure that Treepie could be taught something.

“Chief” sounded like such an esteemed title. So Hakumele was also the child of a ruler then. Treepie supposed that was often the way—since leaders were, more often than not, also the breeders—but she still noted it as common ground.

I want any and all wisdom, Pie assured with a flick of her tail. Any guidance at all is appreciated! I feel like I have some natural gifts that could make me a good leader but there’s always more to learn and improve, you know?

She was like a sponge, ready to soak up knowledge. As she mused over that thought, her bright eyes flicked over their surroundings. It was white most everywhere she looked. Pie missed the colors and the warmth of other seasons, though that was set aside as an errant thought as her gaze returned to Hakumele.

His eyes were kind as he looked upon her. It brought him a sense of warmth to see someone so hopeful. Your willingness to learn is a good place to start. He says, tail waving at his hocks momentarily. A leader should be dynamic, adaptable.

He feels about five years older as he speaks; his father's words aging him. It's important to remember that you will be the rock for your followers. If you sway when you should stand firm, you will leave them lost. He racks his brain for some sort of an analogy now. Think of it like a tree; a big, old one. If it falls the ecosystem around it will survive, but it will take an ecosystem of its own down with it. Plants who had made their home, insects, rodents; they would be forced to leave, overtaken by the fungi, scavengers, and maggots who would come to feast.

His analogies amused her. First, he spoke of being a rock, then a tree. The imagery was apt and easy to follow. Tiuttuk bobbed her head, picturing the tree he described. It made no sound as it fell in her mind, though her ears twitched at a sudden burst of bird calls nearby. They sounded chipper despite all the snow.

Is it important to be physically strong? she found herself asking. I’m not the biggest or baddest wolf, by any stretch of the imagination, Pie acknowledged with a huff of laughter. But if I need to be stronger to serve the pack, then I want to work on that. She paused. How would I accomplish that?

She gazed at him guilelessly, hoping someone of Hakumele’s age and experience might have some answers. If he didn’t, she supposed she could always circle back to her dad, or maybe track down Alaric. They were both strongmen, in her eyes.

Strength is not as important as being able to defend yourself. He responds, though most would think that the two come hand-in-hand. A wolf who can take down a bison is no better than the wolf who hunts hares.

He takes a moment to ponder before looking to Treepie. If I were to push you, would you stumble or fall? He raises an eyebrow, awaiting an answer. He had been subjected to this question when he was young, just as his children had. Usually it was followed by the mentioned push, but Treepie was not his child - bullying her would be rude.

This next bit of advice stumped Treepie a little. She supposed she didn’t understand the difference. She knew about offense and defense, though didn’t they both require some sort of physical strength?

Before she could ask for clarification, Hakumele posed a question that further befuddled her. Her brows knitted as she gave the question a moment’s consideration. Did he mean literally? Pie supposed she must, though she wondered if she’d lost the thread a little bit.

You’re much bigger than me, with lots of muscle. I assume you have more knowledge about fighting too. If you pushed me—especially if I didn’t see it coming—I probably would stumble or fall, Tiuttuk answered as truthfully as she could. But if I anticipated your attack, perhaps I could brace for it.

Something about her own words prompted a proverbial light bulb over her head. She could not alter her physique by much—although surely there were things she could do to build her muscles a bit?—but she certainly could obtain more experience and knowledge.

Why don’t you try me? she dared with a playful lash of her tail, stepping backward. I’m sure you’ll shove my face in the snow, Pie laughed, but after that, maybe you can teach me a bit about fighting? Maybe we could even—oh, what’s the word? It starts with an ‘s’…

Sparring? He raises an eyebrow. If you want to spar then you need good balance first. Stumble, but do not fall. His words were firm. Stumbling was normal, but a fall could be deadly.

Lifting his front paw, he gives a firm push to her nearest shoulder. Nothing too harsh, but enough to knock some balance off of her.

Now would she stumble, or fall?

Yes! she chirped when he pinpointed the word. Alright, Treepie added when he advised her to stumble but not fall.

As she braced herself, she couldn’t help but look at Hakumele in a new light. He was scarred, which probably meant he’d been in many fights. He was still recovering, though Pie didn’t doubt for an instant that he could still overpower her.

The young woman stiffened her legs, took a couple deep breaths and joshed, Come at me, bro.

One broad paw lifted and flicked toward her shoulder in the blink of an eye. She grunted as it made impact, the force behind it shoving her a few inches. Without even thinking about it, Pie lowered her haunches slightly to avoid being toppled. One foreleg kicked out to help with her balance, incidentally brushing his.

But she’d done it: she’d stumbled without fallling.

He gave a quiet 'hm', smile settling on his face once again. My son still falls to this day. He snickers, the image of the boy flopping into the dirt still amusing him even now. Puamele would get there eventually - he had the limbs of a deer and grew like a weed, never quite knew where to put his own feet.

You still want to spar? He was likely a bit rusty, but it wouldn't hurt to get back into the spirit of things. He had been quite the warrior once, and he was determined to refine himself once again. If he was to stay on the spear, he should be at his best. Primed for battle.

Rolling his shoulders back, his direction changes to cross in front of Treepie.

Yes, she said without thinking, eyes glittering as adrenaline spiked pleasantly in her veins.

He stepped in front of her, his body perpendicular to hers, and Treepie tensed in anticipation. But she heard a soft alarm bell ringing in the back of her head. He’s still recovering, it reminded her. Maybe put a pin in it? You won’t become a seasoned fighter in one day anyway.

Although, she said, straightening out legs that had begun bowing in preparation for a match, maybe we can pick this up another day, when you’re feeling 100%? It could even be a reg—

Hang on, he’s leaving someday soon, that same voice chimed in. Still, it can wait until tomorrow or the next day. You don’t want to overexert yourself, either.

Well, I’d like it if we could meet up and spar a few times before you leave, anyway, Tiuttuk finished her thought.

He knows that the girl is right, but he can't help the frown that it results in. You're right, I am an old man these days. Crumbling, withering by the day. His words are accompanied by a sigh, but his teasing is clear.

Walk me back, then. In case my legs give out. She had put him in a good mood, at the very least. He hoped that Treepie would hold up on her wish to spar so that he could hold up his promise to teach.

If she wished to be a leader, he believed that was what she would be.

Hakumele relented, with a few self-deprecating remarks. She wanted to protest, though his expression reassured her that he wasn’t being serious. Her tail waved, lips quirking as she cottoned on to the joke.

Of course, Haku, she agreed, swiveling on a slender heel. Oh! she exclaimed in the middle of her pivot. I can’t believe I never made the connection before but your name sounds a lot like ‘haiku.’ Do you know what that is?

She prattled at him the whole time as they made their way to the healing ulaq. After delivering him safely there and mutually promising to rendezvous again soon to spar, Treepie cleared her throat and orated:

Till we meet again,
To stumble but not to fall,
Good day, dear Haku.

With a swift and easy grin, she departed to let him rest.