Big Salmon Lake i think god is moving it's tongue,

hoping to build conselor skill ;
open to anyone but looking for loners in particular!! <3

daylight shone above in the great blue expanse that was the sky. partially clouded, white in their softness. birds flew by, migrating, the guardian inferred as he headed towards the lake. forneskja laid behind him, now, as he moved: past moonspear, past the glen, towards the ice of the big salmon lake. perhaps some hunting was in store.

but rökkur moved without intent, rather he was merely wandering, looking for stories or tales he could bring back to forneskja, that he could regale to future generations. he found himself curious, then ; wondering who would bring forth children in the late spring. he knew callyope and sólhárr would likely produce a litter, but who else?

he approached the water, now. few creatures gathered, none seemed to be particularly phased by the shadows encroachment, rather focused on themselves. and so he, too, would dip down for a drink, lost in thought. replenishing his thirst ; tail swishing.

Little Needle followed the wolf from the evergreens in a practiced stalk. She kept her distance, always staying out of sight, always aware of any shifts in the wind. She followed only the man’s trail, careful to never lay eyes on him after he had left his pack territory; because to see him was to be seen herself, and being caught would ruin her game.

The leaders of the forest wolves kept Stark hostage (read: in recovery) but she didn’t know who was responsible, and they were all at fault in her eyes. She was bitter towards any wolf carrying the forest’s pungent scents.

Needle willed herself the resolve to interrogate this wolf, but when she caught up to him, he was only drinking, appearing as tranquil as the landscape itself. Did he deserve to have his peace disturbed? Her mouth slanted (:/).

Of course he did. Filthy forest wolf.

Hey you! she shouted, emboldened by the distance he had put between himself and his pack. The other creatures gathered scattered at the sound of her traveling voice. I’ve got questions and you’re gonna answer. She marched down the slope towards the bank of the lake, sure to keep enough space between them that she could bolt at a moment’s notice without first catching his teeth.

a small voice a few ways behind him chirped at him. or rather, yelled. however he could tell the strangers age from their voice ; they were young, and as rökkur turned to view them, they were without guardian, either. a weary look rose upon his features then.

sure, he rumbled, then. tongue thickly accented, almost awkward within his muzzle. a voice that spoke of the icy north in all of its brutality. as long as i can ask one first ; do you have anyone taking care of you at the moment? a parent? guardian?

this child should not be out here on her own.

Needle fought the natural urge to shrink back when the wolf turned to face her. He was a watchtower of a man, all earth and stone and scar. His bloody, scarlet stare unsettled her the most, although this was somewhat alleviated, as his funny accent did much to renew her Inquisitor’s resolve.

Still, she kept a sensible distance.

I don’t need anyone to take care of me, she scoffed, tail stiffening to arc defiantly over her scrawny back. Small for her age, it was easy to mistake her for a younger wolf, but those snakebite eyes of hers would tell a different tale under more scrutiny.

Just tell me what your idiota pack’s done with Stark. Did you mongrels eat him?

i dont need anyone to take care of me, she said, but then she was so quick to speak of a mans name ; stark. although he had not put a face to such a title, rökkur believed he may have heard it in passing - all whispers eventually arrived at the moongrove.

we do not eat wolves, faith-man said, brows raised, tone laced with a dry, almost disbelieving amusement. for a young woman such as herself, she surely had spunk, calling someone almost double her size a mongrel. if his presence within forneskja has not been his own decision, then it is likely he has either transgressed, or is healing from injury with seiðkona, if he wished to leave on his own accord, then forneskja would let him, surely. lest he have committed a crime against the people.

a tilt of his dark head, then. you are free to visit him.

You are free to visit him.

Needle balked at the earth golem, for once stricken silent. Her hackles rippled uncertainly; a part of her wanting to trust him despite her natural inclination. It was something about the way he spoke— the gentle way he regarded her, his courtly mien.

She shook her head, as if to dispel an illusion. If he thought he could fool her, he had another thing coming!

And I’m just supposed to believe you? she scoffed. Follow you right into the jaws of your pack, so you can eat me, too? Nice try, pal. I’m not that dumb. Though her haughtiness and overall confrontational attitude would surely disagree.

something about her lack of words struck the shadow as unusual, though he had not known her for very long at all. but such blessing did not last long, for she quickly shook her head and a scoff left her lips. her words were skeptical. whether you believe me or not is none of my concern, though perhaps it is your friends, his voice was calm.

with a huff of his own, then, he said: you really think we are going to eat you? you are too small, too scrawny, the lorekeeper shook his head. perhaps a dab of reverse psychology - or in this case, a challange - would give the girl what she needed to check in on stark. but, perhaps you will get eaten, without your friend, stark, around.

unless you want to see him, and that was the last thing he would say, before dipping his head and turning away to the neverwinter. she did not have to follow, he would simply mark the way, his paws forming a trail to the wooded packlands, should she visit.

Too small— too scrawny!— he called her!

Needle's eyes blazed in an indignant wildfire. She desperately wanted to argue, but the words escaped her. A chord of fear was struck within her, when he suggested that she might get eaten without her protector.

This made her angriest of all.

Nobody's eating me, she muttered under her breath. She still thought she would grow, unaware that she had already reached her adult height. So many others were so much larger than her— surely she would be larger, too.

And when she got big, she would eat him. The cogs of revenge already churning in her childish head.

Her voice raised then, shouting after him as he departed. That's right, pendejo, run away. When I'm your size, we'll see who's eating who!