Dragoncrest Cliffs you think i do this because i like it?

he's calling for @Meerkat or @Njord or both, but if they can't make it (i know both got a lot goin' on!) then it can be AW <3

he had been reassured that they did not hate him.

still he clung to the gentle fear, that they might blame him. that they might look upon his face and see a foolish boy who had hurt there son with the spirit of shardik. and yet he wished to face them, to see them and know if that was how their eyes looked on him.

so he had asked for help to come out into the air, to find a place to lay down out here.

then asked for privacy.

softly he warbled out with a hoarse note, asking either of swordfish's parents to come to him.

Njord and Meerkat stood in the valley and held each other for a long while. Only when Chacal summoned the seamother did she go, her husband left alone with his thoughts.

But there were not many words in his mind – only feelings.

Eventually, morning came. Dawn’s apricity brought him company and comfort as he remained perched upon the rolling hill like a gargoyle – alert for any bearsign.

Then, a feeble voice called to him. Njord recognized its owner and responded at once. Quennell sat just outside the mouth of the den where he had been born, waiting for his senior… looking like a cripple.

Njord’s expression pulls into taught lines, so angry and sad to see the young man in such a state. Evidence of their enemy’s power and the real threat beyond their borders.

His red tail wagged slowly. Soft eyes of a father look down onto a boy who was thrust into manhood too soon by this ordeal. His muzzle bumps Quennell, as if he put a hand on one shoulder.

“Does it hurt much, ruadh?” he asks quietly.

he did not wish to declare how good it felt to be regarded with such...warmth.

perhaps it showed in the way his eyes misted near instantly. leaned into the touch and invited the man to settle down with him, if he so wished.

it be betterin' everyday.

it was not the full truth, but it was truth enough.

can i, ah, tell ya somet'in'?

his voice quivered, but he told himself to look the man in the face. to see the emotions within it and know that njord did not hate him.

Njord notices the way Quennell’s lids tighten. How dops of water bud in the corner of his eyes. The way he is moved.

The seafather is not sure exactly why but understands how it feels to hold so much emotion in one’s heart.

He lays down perpendicular to Quennell – how the Crossing bisects the Nave of a church – and turns his back to the outside world. It is just the two of them.

“Of course, lad,” he assures the boy with a turn of his good ear — and the folded one does its best to turn too.

of course.

and he felt even sillier! he had branded himself so harshly with the shame that njord was like a balm to it. to soothe and reassure the boy that he had not ruined things between them with what had happened to himself and, arguably more importantly, swordfish.

i-i t'ought you an' meemee might be hatin' me.

he did his best to not become a blubbering child all at once, but his vision blurred and it felt like no amount of blinking would clear it.

Njord watched Quennell’s composure erode when the boy managed to utter the words he kept close to his heart. The man knew what it was like to feel the resentment and scrutiny of others. He would never, ever wish that pain on anyone else. Especially Quennell.

“Nay, lad,” Njord said with a slow shake of his head. He took a page out of Meerkat’s book and put his broad paw over Quennell’s and squeezed. “Tell me why ye think this,” he asked, hypothesizing that more troubles festered in the depths of his spirit.

How much tail did he lose?

about 1/4 or so is left :D just a lil nub really

i —

he inhaled sharply. looked down at their paws atop one another.

quennell, fatherless, had never know what it might be like. yet as he gazed upon the man he had affectionately referred to as like an uncle, he wondered if it was something closer to that unknown gap. he wondered if that was selfish. if it was wrong.

ya told me 'bout 'im. bout shardik. den...den we went an' i jus'...i t'ought you be hatin' me for what 'appened to s'ord.

;__; Njord can be ur daddy quen!

The lad stumbled over his words as he spilled his guts. Njord listened, focused. There was pain. Guilt. Shame. The feeling of a failed responsibility.

How funny it was to be grown. To see so much of yourself in the younger generation. It was like an odd mirror.

Njord wished to help shepherd him through.

He took a big breath and prepared his vulnerable heart. “When you an’ Swordfish dinnae come home, I ken somethin’ wasnae right. I tracked ye. Found bearsign. Yer blood. Followed it ‘til I came upon tha hidin’ place you an’ Swordfish hunkered down in. I could smell yer fear. Yer fight tae live.” Njord remembered the panic he felt. The fear that he would find their mangled bodies in the snow.

“I was so scairt for ye both, Quennell. But ye were so braw. Swordfish’s wouldnae made it back alive if ye weren’t tha canny wolf that ye are.” The grievous wounds would have stopped Fish in his tracks.

Njord swallowed roughly and moved his paw to touch Quennell's shoulder. “It wasnae yer fault tha bear came. Ye 'ad tha good sense tae run. Tae hide. Ye brought our boy home, lad. We owe you a grand debt.”

the tears came freely now. wept openly before the man in front of him.

what would have happened if the bear had smelled their fear? or if njord had crossed the bear instead on his tracking? he could not think about it without combusting into tears further.

"Ye brought our boy home, lad. We owe you a grand debt."

he could not speak! so overcome with a million emotions too big for his body. it was with a snotty, teary face that he plunged into the shoulder of njord.

he did not know why he hadn't wept like this sooner.

Njord could see the moment Quennell’s cup became full and overflowed as great streams of tears flowed down his cheeks. When the lad threw himself into the seaman, Njord did not balk. He cupped the back of Quennell’s head with one paw, while the other patted his back.

“Much, mo naoidheachan, much,“ Njord’s timber rumbled a comforting note. If Sapphique’s women were mothers to all of the children, then what stopped Njord from becoming their father figure? He understood a young boy’s trials and what it meant to become, and be, a man.

He felt love in his heart for the red-backed boy. “Ye are safe, now. Ye and Swordfish will heal,” Njord said, certain. “All is well.”

fade? <3

this was different from when sobo or val visited him. it was different from the way his sister's may have prodded his more emotional side.

it was most certainly different than his mothers.

quennell was not sure a man had ever held him like this. especially when he cried so freely. it was likely he would soon wear himself out from this behavior. already tired and weakened from the healing.

yet he had no fear or embarrassment in possibly falling asleep against the man's hold in the tired haze of his crying.