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Okay, so maybe this wasn't as bad a place as he had thought. Or maybe the forest was actually filled with the big, the bad, and the ugly. Larus could smell a very pungent aroma on the wind and was keen to investigate, but at the same time he was apprehensive. His dawdling steps led a roaming nose away from the den once more, but this time towards the flower fields - where an array of colors and smells lay in wait for him. As he navigated, Larus picked up another smell. It was like a wolf, but also not, and instantly caused the boy to worry. He stopped his waddling and gave his surroundings a cursory glance, but... There was nothing there. Just an old log that had turned soft and red; he gave it a poke with one careful paw, and then quickly withdrew as if the decaying object had snapped some unseen teeth in his direction. What was that smell?
With a snort, Jökull rolled over onto her side to rest her head on Lárus. Instead, her chin hit the dry earth below. This does not feel like Lárus, she thought. Lazily, she opened one eye to see where he'd gone off to. Maybe he was snuggling with someone else? Looking around the den with squinted eyes, she noted the surprising absence of her pudgiest of kin. Where is he? Looking at the mouth of the den, she spotted the retreating hindquarters of a small animal. It slipped away from her peripheral view, hidden by dense shrub. Judging by the size and coloration of what she saw...Yeah, that's gotta be Lárus. But what was he up to?
Stretching, she rose to her feet and rushed out of the den. Lárus was nowhere to be seen so Jökull put her nose to work. Following his scent trail, Jökull stealthily moved through the field of flowers. Eventually, she caught a glimpse of him. He was standing beside what looked like a rotten tree. It was huge. Bigger than all four Sveijarn pups put together. It was like some big grand edifice just waiting to be pillaged. And she'd be damned if Lárus was going to step foot in it first!
Rushing through the flowers, she ran to Lárus as fast as she could. No doubt her cover was blown now, but at least she would catch him unawares. It was time for some good ole family bullying bonding.
Larus wasn't usually so focused. The smell had him captivated - mostly because it was very similar to a scent he had breathed before. He had no idea that their old den had been lined with the fur of many foxes. The boy nosed around the base of the tree. He carefully inspected the bark (without touching it of course) and even poked his nose inside the gaping hole that looked so ominous.
As he did so, there was a thundering noise from behind him. It was enough to spook the boy out from his investigative prowling, and in the process of withdrawing his face he bonked his head on part of the rotten tunnel. Yeeoww!
Larus cringed and stumbled in reverse, feeling the dull pain of his konked noggin and wanting to make a fuss of it - but there was no time.
Jokull was awake, oh dear god.
Awake and raring to go, apparently. Her body came in to contact with him in the next second, shoving him abruptly in to the dirt. Larus had no time to prepare for the onslaught of his sister's attention, and so his limbs buckled and he collapsed without resistance. Aah! Noo!
Oh how the mighty doth protest.
The good thing about Lárus? He never put up much of a fight – always bowing his head before she can sink her teeth into him. That was not much of a gift seeing as Jökull enjoyed the struggle to escape her bullying. All he did was whine. No growls of defiance or anything of the sort. Just pitiful submission.
Lárus' inaction served no purpose besides a bitter, short lived sense of triumph. Thus, he only added fuel to her fire. All this compliance with no fighting made her think: Am I not rough enough? Need I draw blood? Last time she did that, well...daddy and mommy made it crystal clear as to why she should not do that. That would not stop Jökull from picking on her yellow belly brother. Snapping at the loose skin of his neck, her fangs worried the flesh to the point of discomfort. She would not stop until –
“Hm?” she hummed, Lárus' fur slipping free from her mouth. An alien smell entered her nostrils, causing her to abandon Lárus in search of the source. It smelled like a wolf, but it also did not. If that makes any sense. Lowering her head, she sniffed the ground leading up to the rotten tree. Peering into a random hollow did not offer much as to what that smell was. Only that it came from inside the tree.
Snapping her head to Lárus, she inquired: “Ya smells that? Das da smell...of ad-ven-ture.” Was that the correct phrase? Jökull could not find it in her to care. Strutting over to a decrepit, hollowed root, she placed one paw inside and put her weight on it. It creaked, but did not give way. Yes, this one would do nicely. Entering the tree was no different than entering a den. It was a lot tighter than what they were accustomed to and he smelled like dried, dead wood, but would Lárus put his fear aside for just one freakin' moment and go explorin' with her? Turning to face her brother, she glared at him. A look that clearly said, come in here or I'll drag you in here.
Jokull was far faster and far stronger than her pudgy little brother. She was upon him so quickly that there was little to nothing he could've done to prepare. Now, all he could do was back away from her and try to plaster himself against the ground - however, she was having none of that. Her teeth were grabbing at all kinds of places, and seemed to find that the most squealing and squawking came about when her teeth were near his neck.
It was a natural reaction, something which would probably serve him later in life when little Larus realized how dangerous a true fight could be. He tried to pull away but that just hurt more; he tried to wriggle and kick with his feet, but he was hardly coordinated. Just when all hope seemed lost... Jokull let go. Larus inhaled a few sharp sniffs to counter his runny nose, and even took a moment to blink the tears from his eyes, before realizing that Jokull had really stopped.
Not only had she stopped, but she was distracted. At first Larus was skeptical of her absence, thinking it was probably a new twist on the game she liked to play with him. Her attention was upon the old tree he had found. Ya smells that? Das da smell...of ad-ven-ture.
She stated firmly, and then was investigating without a modicum of fear. The boy waddled a few steps around the old tree and sniffed, more so to clear his nasal passages of drippy snot than to actually search for anything. Why would he want to ad ven toor? That didn't sound like fun! It sounded scary!
When he looked back to see if Jokull was still nearby, he saw that she wasn't, and became quite nervous. It was one thing to be targeted by his sister, but another thing entirely to lose her. Mommy and daddy wouldn't like that! He'd have to find her before --
But there she was. Peering out from the great big tree with a very familiar look. He dared not to disobey her, and threaten the wrath of his superior sibling. So with a gulp to calm his nerves (it didn't work), Larus began to slink towards the rotten tree. He poked his nose inside of the hollow where Jokull stood, and gradually eased his head in, then his shoulders, and then his butt - at which point his big fat butt cut off the light quite suddenly. He let out a shriek of surprise right in Jokull's nearby ears.
“Are yew sewious?” A note of exasperation and embarrassment. His butt had somehow managed to get stuck in the entrance! It was like his entire bum decided to eclipse the sun. Even now, as she moved to accommodate him, no light trickled through. The darkness did not bother Jökull as much as the snugness of the root in which they entered...Okay, so the blackness didn't help, but at least she was not crying about it! Yet.
Lurching past her brother's front end to tackle the wood that was snug around his hips, Jökull used the flat of her skull as a sort of battering ram. The wood gave way immediately. Warm noon light came shining through, lighting their path to ad ven toor. “I saved yous butt. You is welcome. Now less go.” They have wasted enough time (and energy) doing nothing. It was time to reveal the enigma of this aged, rotten tree.