Noctisardor Bypass How do you do.

Otter Pelt and Weasel Fur

Rodyn had dropped his wares at the caches of Moontide and had begun his journey again. The meat that was filling their stores, made him feel ambitious for the coming year. They would continue to do well. This was a good thing.

Around his shoulders he carried otter and weasel fur and he lifted his nose to the heavens, when a new scent pervaded. Another pack, one he didn't know. A crinkle in his brow. He stayed ten feet from teh border line and called out to whomever wished to meet with him.

He then settled tail around his paws. And waited patiently for @Heda or @Anselm. The furs at his side now.

Rivenwood was quiet these days. Something was growing in Anselm's chest he could not yet name.

The children continued to grow. The borders remained safe. The cache well stocked between all of their efforts.

No update from Druid. Anselm wrestled with the possibility her condition could turn. He waited each day for her to stumble back here mad with disease. He doubled border patrol in the mean time.

As always, Anselm was as unwelcoming as a welcoming committee could get when a howl drew him to the borders. He noted the heap of pelts at his feet first - but then his gaze traveled the full length of Rodyn's features. There were many scars on this man - despite their rough presence, his eyes were kind.

He was direct, as always. Vhat do you vant?

Rodyn looked over the pack lands. This was a quite place it seemed. Scents that he had known perhaps once upon a time clung to them. But whether he knew the wolf or just a passing moment he wasn't certain.

Rodyn was taken aback for a moment. But outwardly he didn't share this. He tilted an ear forward.

I'm Rodyn Ardeth from Moontide. I am coming to trade if you'd like and also to offer your pack to join ours and many others for a group hunt in the fall. Probably elk or deer. There will be hunting, medicine circles, and women circles as well. A chance for fellowship, and hunting.

Everything the stranger shared in the next few seconds was so uncustomary for Anselm that for several moments thereafter, he sat there parsing what had been said. Surely he’d misheard it? The notion of hunting with strangers was so preposterous and dangerous he could not possibly have heard correctly. 

Rodyn’s face was earnest, communicating this wasn’t some weirdo’s version of a prank. 

For a long while Anselm considered what to say. At last his mind circled around Heda — what would Heda think in this moment, what would she say or do? 

He imagined she’d receive this stranger with grace. Kindness. All the things he lacked. 

Rather than outright say no and rob the rest of Rivenwood their chance to partake, Anselm decided he needed to know more. Vhat, exactly, is a ‘vomen-circle’? And vhat other packs are involved? How is the kill split between packs? How many get hurt?

The other male looked at him like he was a man with two heads. And perhaps this wasn't customary. So he accepted it with grace and would explain would he need. It was a little different he supposed even he had been a little bit unsure. Once.

It is where women gather to speak on things that men should not hear. Of love and healing and child rearing things like that. And to just enjoy the company of other women.

It depends on how many creatures we fell how it is divided, but every pack gets their fair share. As many that come, there is often much meat. This last pack we had, we felled 4 bison at last count. There are many packs involved, and I am offering the chance to many. The moon packs, Sapphique came last time, Redtail rise, Brecheliant, and Epoch to name a few. WE only had 3 injuries last time. one was me. THe other was a dislocated shoulder and one a youth was kicked.

To Rodyn’s credit he was patient as he explained the hunt’s significance to Rivenwood’s skeptic. Anselm was unmoved, contemplating in silence.

Love, healing, and child rearing. Were these not things Anselm could benefit from? He wondered if @Heda would want to learn of this, and would tell her of it the moment he was certain Rodyn had left camp.

At length he spoke. I vill inform our leaders of this. Vhen vill we know it is time?

Rodyn tried to do the hunt justice. But he couldn't fully share the width adn grasp of such a thing without falling short.

Rodyn nodded his head. Well we will howl or I can send a messenger to get you. It will be in Autumn near the spear mountains. A little placed called Firefly Glen.

Anselm tried to picture this hunt - but he never had much of an imagination. He supposed he'd have to see it himself.

A messenger sounded like a waste of resources, but Anselm kept such negativity to himself. He was learning that people found constant negativity exhausting -- he wondered what it might be like to not be so entrenched in the bad of the world.

A howl vill be fine. He conceded, deciding he didn't really care for strangers lurking around their borders anyway. I vill listen for the call. Anselm's posture suggested that this conversation was coming to a close; he waited -- almost politely -- for Rodyn to collect his things and leave.