Hushed Willows Heart Beat Here

Njord continued on his way back towards Dragoncrest. He traveled along the Northern aspect of the Sunspire range, across mount Apikuni, Lone Star Mountain, and Emberflame ridge. When he arrived at the Hushed Willows, a familiar scent caught his attention. @Valmúaa? It was old, but… not as stale as the old scent in Raven’s Watch. His heart thrummed – for a second he thought it would burst out of his chest. Was she still here?

Njord immediately swung his head to the pale moon (for it was early dusk and still rising in the sky) and sang a low, melodic song for her. After, he would wait… watching to spy her copper pelage flirting between the bent willow branches.

The song was a welcome reprieve from her nonexistent status of wolfdom. She felt the music in her bones, vibrating something old, awakening the dust that had settled upon the ghost of a heart she still held.
Waking from her slumber, she stretched, her back and elbows cracking with satisfying pops as she yawned. The fire lit dimly for Valmúa. Many evenings had passed and she had slowly gone through most of her stash of hallucinogens. The aftermath was unpleasant and cold to her, so she had fallen into a kind of apathetic despair which had no purpose nor direction. She was a shell of her former self in some ways, but in others she was merely a snake in a vulnerable state, shedding her skin and unable to be quite as effective as the predator of men that she had once been.
Her party had become little more than an ache for happiness. The sound though, it tempted her, and so she followed it with a clouded swiftness that a child might have for a delicious smell.
It did not take her long to find him there. She had grown thin, while he had recovered from his run-in with Kigifuck, and then some. She exhaled, bending her ears slightly as a soft princessa might do. Gæludýrið mitt, how long it has been, she cooed.

The last note of Njord’s song waned, echoing into the silent winter twilight. There was no applause from the  audience of bare willow trees… and for a moment he thought himself a fool. With Raven’s Watch disbanded, how would she ever still be here? Njord’s lips tightened as his gaze flicked about in the fading light. It was getting colder. Sapphique would expect him home.

But then, a miracle.

Valmúa emerged from her hiding place, distinct golden ruff and slender figure unmistakable to Njord’s keen sight. Had she been here all this while? They quickly closed the distance between one another. Njord’s heart jumped into his throat. He had dreamt of her nightly since being bested by Kigipigak and had allowed his imagination, and heart, to run wild with affectionate fixation. Now she was here, in the flesh, and Njord remember that they barely knew each other.

This fact didn’t stop his fast approach. But, now Njord could see how the hard season had weathered her body. Her once strong frame was gaunt… fur dull and thin. She seemed fatigued, or run down, and her demeanor was unusually soft and reserved. Gæludýrið mitt, how long it has been, she whispered with a lyrical accent. A pang of guilt shot through him. He had waited too long to call upon her.

Njord wasted no time to close the remaining space between them. Though he wished to scoop her up and embrace her tightly, the seafarer was not certain she would have him. He reached out to gently press his nose against her cheek. First contact.

“Too long,” Njord admitted, voice wan. “Valmúa, you are ‘ere alone?” he asked, “I passed through tha Raven’s Watch… ‘an tha borders had faded. I thought you ‘ad gone… Where’s Kigipigak?” He was shocked she had been left to fend for herself through such a terrible winter season. He traced Valmúa‘s cheekbone to the ruff of her ear and began to preen her fur as Erzulie had, to comfort the beauty. A bubbling brew of anger, guilt, and affection boiled in his breast.

The excitement in the boy's eyes did not escape her. For a moment, there was the temptation to lift her lip as he pushed his nose to her face. It had been so long since she had felt real physical contact with anyone that her instinct was to shy away from him. An uncharacteristically gentle smile washed over her instead. It was evidence of exhaustion, though there were none now that knew her well enough to recognize it. Her body condition and dulled fur betrayed what had befallen her after her brothers had abandoned her. Again.
I am, she confirmed. All alone.
Her mind felt fogged with the aftermath of her sveppa habit. Her body had been rid of toxins from taking them, but whatever knowledge she had hoped to gain from the earth had become little. It was hardly a pleasant experience she had put herself through. Her scent was strange, and her spirit drained. The fire was dim.
He has abandoned me. As have my brothers, she answered vaguely. The poppy girl allowed Njord's touch, sitting down beside him and closing her eyes. It hurt. She had been avoiding admitting the pain of having those she loved leave her a second time. She had tried to cover it, put it in a steel box and hide it away. She was meant to be Valmúa, queen of the north. But she was not.
But you have not, have you, gæludýrið mitt? She looked at him expectantly.

After all the effort to drive away Njord, Kigipigak had abandoned the beauty. Fury twisted inside his blood at the thought of her braving the never-ending winter storms alone in the willows. While his respect for the Northern man plummeted,  Njord remained blissfully unaware of Valmúa‘s true, more contriving nature (nor did he recognize the signs of an animal coming down from a binge of psychedelics). To him, she looked like a sweet maiden in the snow behind his rose colored glasses.

The seafarer’s dotted brows knit in consternation, reserving any unsavory words for Kigipigak at a later date. For Valmúa, he only wished to utter comforting things in her presence. “Nay, never,” Njord whispered. “I’ve been dreamin’ of ya since we met eyes, Valmúa. Thinkin’ ‘bout how ta win yer favor back...” She sat besides him with her eyes closed to bask in his gentle grooming. His hearted fluttered like a busy bird, infatuated.

Dreaming... The poppy girl drifted on unsteady glimmers of happiness, grinning oddly at this boy who had come to her of his own accord. As he stepped willingly into her tattered spider's web, she could do nothing but appreciate him. She tenderly grazed his chin with her nose, then licked affectionately at him as though they had always been close. He was hungry. She felt it, and knew she must take it.
At last, she opened her eyes. He was a beautiful boy of a man. There was true power rippling through him. There was promise and beauty in those young muscles and thick coat. He had been eating well, and his build despite earlier injuries seemed to have improved. He had become even more delicious than before, and why he was here upon her doorstep she did not know, but Valmúa wanted whatever it was that essence was.
Oh, my svakalega boy, you always had my favour, she cooed. I am so happy you are here, she finalized, finally seeming to awaken as her tender licks transitioned into wolfish nips and mouthing.

So sorry I dropped off the face of the planet! Life got so crazy!! Wrapping this one up…. hopefully the two can reunite in the future <3

The pirate and the poppy girl sat together tenuously, sharing affections. Njord basked in her beauty, wanting her in every way, but in the end - for this chapter in their lives - the two could not continue on together. The duty of Sapphique pulled him from her and, for reasons he could not explain, he traveled back to his packlands, alone in body and spirit.