Sequoia Coast Mother Called Me Home

Tveir slid into the bright light of the coast. No familiar wolf smells. He lay sandy paws against the darker sand. The water flowing in and out. He tilted a dark brown ear, and grey eyes smoldered across the wide expanse. It had been far too long since he had been absent, his mother long dead, his half siblings on their own adventures. He had no idea what had become of Mercury or Gyda. He licked along his jaw and he closed his eyes. 

The water slammed against the shore, the sea birds wheeled and cried out and something shifted in chest, he was home. Yes he had traveled and fought and learned, and here he was whole finally. If he thought hard enough he could hear his mother's voice his father's voice calling calling, he himself was not a young man anymore. He had not done anything that many young males had. No children to call his own, no mate. Though truth be told part of him had been afraid of what that would have meant. Would he have left her as his true blood father left Thistle.

Thistle. A small smile worked his way along his mouth as he thought of his mother. She had never taken another mate, none once. Her heart had beat for Ragnar Lothbruk, and her children. Tveir snorted and continued on his way, pawprints leaving soft imprints in the sand.

would you be okay saying this is near sapphique? :D

a man.

they always drifted the coast it seemed and her patience ran rampantly thin with them, yet there was something different about this one. he was not some type of young buck, eager to make a herd and break the hearts of those willing to be soft.

this one seemed aged, worn by time.

hesitantly she neared him. well out of reach but visible enough to be seen, gauging his reaction to her arrival.

Of course that is fine with me :) since it's set to rain tomorrow on our little weather widget, gonna add that in.

Grey eyes flicked towards the young one that came forward. He ticked one of his ears back listening, waiting observing. He traced her form with kind eyes and for a moment he briefly wondered if she could be kin. So much like his mother, small of limb, but she held herself tall, erect, a shield-maiden.

He flicked his eyes back to the water's edge, lifted his nose and pointed outward. "There's a storm coming. The sea birds always know."

Though truth be told, Tveir would know as well, the scent of rain was on the wind, the sounds of the crashing water below. He had lived by the sea long enough, that he knew of what it was and why. He shifted and settled to his haunches, curled his tail about his legs, kept his eyes averted. He hadn't smelled a pack, but one could never know.

he looked and she stood hard, unwilling to drop into any sort of meekness beneath his gaze. the mistake had been made with asmodeus. no more, she willed herself.

then he spoke.

are you of the sea? softly tinged with a northern accent. one that had been slowly chipped away at but remained nonetheless.

what did he know of seabirds and sea storms?

The little shield-maiden did not bow beneath his gaze, a notch of respect wove it's way through his inner soul. She was strong of spirit, brave, a queen of the sea, like his mother, his sisters had been. She bore a countenance of one who perhaps had been upon the harshness of others, but hadn't they all.

"I am and I was. Once upon a time, I called these borders home. My mother, my father our pack, we rose amongst are brethren and made a home among these shores.

Steel gray eyes in masked face gazed out among the sea again, the birds catching the last of their meals, the rest finding a home to hole up in, silent.

"The birds always go silent, as the storm comes, and the sea gets louder. It was my lullaby as a child."

she was touched. gaze softened even if her posture did not. there were stories hidden in his words. a history here rich and vibrant. she wondered if sapphique knew him at all. rosalyn, erzulie —

it has become mine now, too. she told him, tentative. testing waters as she would the edges of the sea. she dared to move a bit closer. better to be heard over the stormbrew waters.

what is your name, sjøreisende?

a title bestowed upon him. a kindness.

Gunnar shifted his weight as she moved closer, the sand flowing from his paws, but he merely went lower, so as to make himself smaller. He didn't wish to startle her, rather bring her some small comfort. If it was stories she wanted, he could give them, but it would take him some time to remember. Memory was a fickle thing.

"A good place to make a home." The next words that fell off her maw, drew him pause. The thoughts kicking into place and he gave a small gasp
.

"That is a language I have not heard in some time, Sjodronning

He took a deep breath. "I go by many names. Tveir is what my family and friends call me, but my given name is Gunnar Ivarr Loðbrók. You little sea queen, may call me Tveir or Gunnar.]

sjødronning.

she nearly crumbled, uncertain if it was from surprise or from such a title being returned to her. a sea queen. her heart thudded heavily in her chest. he had unknowingly placed a rabbit's foot in her breast, the thrum of it enough to mix waves crashing with the rush of blood.

he laid names before her and it felt like a choice was presented. how close did she let him to her?

gunnar, she breathed, the hushed tone enough to convey her suddenness of being so swept away by him. she felt the hot flame of shame and intrigue. jorunn. she returned, settling onto her own rear near his laid position.

you are a welcomed one.

Gunnar had never lost his love for the language his father had given to him, but he very seldom was able to speak it. To share it with this pretty little sandy wolf, it was a welcomed blessing. A gift surely from one of the gods his father had favored. He had lost the love for them as he had aged, though he always sacrificed something small every season.

He sensed her trepidation, but he didn't push. He gave her a choice, it was now on her. He would answer to either name, whichever she liked. Tveir for two, as he had been the second born, or Gunnar as his mother had whispered through her tears.

He gave her a wolfish smile. "So Gunnar it shall be, once upon a time I was even Guns. Though that was in my puppyhood, and that is long since past."

He perked his ears forward at her name. "Strong name for a strong girl, it suits you little sea queen."

He wagged his tail against the sand. takk.

What brings you to the edge of the today, Jorunn?"

her heart hurt in a way she could not describe. for a moment, she need look away. deep copper eyes keen to see the churn of the sea, the clouds brewing off the coast.

girl, but he too called her sea queen.

she remembered the pale fur of asmodeus with tinges of crimson. she remembered the nameless man she had thought to give to the sea.

why she remembered these things, she could not say. it was lost to her. lost to his voice.

my home is near, she told him. information as much as it was warning. not all would be so kind, but surely he knew. aged, kissed by time. i make it my work to protect them.

where will you go, sjøkonge?

she dared to hurt herself. to grant him a title as high as the one he had given her.

Gunnar had long forgotten the gentle hearts that beat in the breasts of the youth. So when the young one turned away, he felt that. Realized too late, he had hurt her feelings somehow, but how he wasn't certain.

Gunnar tilted his head, and he heeded her warning and information. There were she wolves here, kissed by the sea, once upon a time. Who did not like males. They harbored my foster sister for a time."

Gunnar gave a soft chuff, gentle smile on his face, he finally turned closer to her, gun metal eyes meeting her gaze, the sandy mask that covered his face.  I made it my work to protect those I loved when i was younger too."

He studied her, wondered at her question, chewed it over. "I'm not certain where I will go. I simply wanted to come home. Tell me Sjodronning what should I search out? What should i look for? It has been some time since I walked these foothills."

she smiled warily. it sounded familiar. she felt her heart drawn to it. any man not of sapphique was no good, not to her. not to the lives within sapphique.

but here was he and here was she.

i do not know your heart, she told him, a neutral look settled upon her features. she felt wise beyond her years, but she knew youth still tinged her brain.

look within. tell me, gunnar.

she urged him on, softly.

Gunnar remembered those wolves, he had never met them, but he remembered his foster family. How it had been whispered that they were not kind to males. Truth be told Gunnar didn't mind much. He was a fairly easy going wolf and it had been some time since he had been a pack member, but the question was did he want to be one? Especially in a pack that would use what he had been birthed with a cruel rebuff. He was ambitious, perfectionist, he could bow he head and lay prostrate, but could he stay where he could not rise, that was the question.

Gunnar chuckled gently. "The heart is a fickle thing, Jorunn. Mine is a simple one. I came home, because I missed the sea. I have been a loner for most of my life, though I didn't start out that way. Tell me a bit about your pack? Or are those secrets you can't tell."

how did he call them both simple and fickle? she was perplexed by men, as usual.

we are bound by the sea. women lead and a family thrives. not so kind to strange men... her words lingered as a warning but the look on her face was warm. if you show, they will know if you are good for there or not.

would you maybe like to wrap this and get them something new seeing as he's in sapphique now? :D

Gunnar wouldn't have been able to answer her had she asked. Because even he had no answer. His mother's heart had been simple in her one deep love, yet fickle in it's jealousy.

He listened closely made a soft hum. I remember a sea born pack years ago, much the same though wild and savage. babies had been stolen. 

The man stretched and stood up a wag of his tail. Thank you for passing the time with me. Sjodronning.

Gladly. Thankyou for the thread.