Stone Circle macellarius
an hour of wolves and shattered shields
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Ooc — ebony
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#1
All Welcome 
for three days germanicus remained in riverclan with crowfeather and the new children, and then he returned to kvarsheim.

@Aquillius was first visited. 

and then the imperator went out alone to the circle of stones, and cursed himself

how had he fallen?

how had he done this?

what had he done?

and his yellowpaint eyes now, melancholy toward the creek. 

and crowfeather; oh;

was he so weak now in his flesh that he cowed to every sensation?

the roman went on silent patrol, shame burning in his gut.
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#2
Germanicus looks like he could use a soft friend <3 
Skáld remained oblivious of what had happened when the gathering of wolves from their friendly packs had come together. Words of witches, curses, a traitor- they all went over his head. He had no words for these concepts, not even in his own tongue. Skáld spoke of, and thought of, the little things- and remained as much a child as he had always been. 

The dandelions had flowered, and now they'd turned to orbs of seeds waiting to be blown away on the wind...Or helped along with the bat of a paw. With a giggle, Skáld went from one dandelion stalk to the next, sending the seeds flying with either a puff of warm air, or with a smack of his paw. He did not realize he'd wandered toward the borders, but did not cross them. He meandered along them instead, following the breeze so that he sent the seedlings flying on their feathery little umbrellas before him.
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#3
<3

they dotted the wind, these small swaying things. the ranger turned and saw a thin boy trailing opposite him. 

at first the roman began to turn, the heaviness along his shoulders demanding isolation.

but this was not editum. not mereo. it was kvarsheim.

and so he cleared his throat and paused in his own path. "i am watching the borders. will you help me?"
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#4
mini cameo <3

She wonders about the man Germanicus.

Newly redeemed in the eyes of the valley, who ranges far and rests infrequently. Who says little but whose unlit silhouette among the ancients imparts an air of loneliness even in the stretch of field between them.

She keeps one eye on Skáld, entirely immersed in a world of late-blooming dandelions, an unknowing frolic leading him nearer to the Ranger. Her spine bristles instinctively, but begins to settle as Germanicus calls out to the boy. She watches the pair silently for a moment.
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#5
Skáld saw the man's face, for a moment, before it was turned away and a great shoulder was presented to him in a way that felt like a bid for solitude. Like a tallship with its sails full, it appeared as though he would continue on without giving much more thought to the boy and his dandelion fluff. He glanced toward Tauris, and smiled, though it was a frail expression; he loved her dearly but her absence had caused him some amount of worry, though he hid it as well as he could. 

He flinched when he was addressed, surprised by the soft tones of the man. His head tilted at the words borders, help me. he took a couple steps forward, lured not by invitation but by concern. Help me was sometimes said in times of need! But Germanicus did not look upset, ill or in any sort of danger. He remembered the previous word- borders, and his tufted ears pricked. He was being invited to watch the borders? 

He looked to Tauris, unsure for a moment if he should go, but she seemed relaxed. He moved forward. "Jyer...m...m...man?" He asked tentatively. The name had been spoken to him before, but was new to his lips yet, and fondled clumsily on an apologetic tone.
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#6
tauris.

germanicus nodded to the warrior, once. she watched over the boy and of this he approved.

who knew what evils the roman could also invite?

"germanicus," he said quietly. "and you are skáld." the language of kvarsheim spoke of granite beneath ice, but he saw none yet of this in the youth.

only some touch of cornelius, some part of aquillius.

"you may call me eagle, if it is easier."
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#7
With ease, the man spoke not only his own name, but Skáld’s as well, winning him a wriggle of the boy’s wavy tail. Germanicus, a word that felt heavy in his mouth, but smoothe, like a river stone. He whispered it to himself, though when he was offered another name, his head tilted to the side, making his ear tips flop slightly. 

”Eagull?” He asked, ”Like-“ He looked up, as if to point out the creature in question, though presently he could only hear a Robin singing in the trees. ”Like bird?” He continued, as he meandered forward. He sniffed at a flower and smiled faintly, before he piped up again. ”Why Eagull?”
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#8
what was cornelius doing this moment?

where did alivia play?

had valiria found her peace?

germanicus felt the pain in his heart. his spirit seemed cut, this time by the irreparable lift of his own hand, as if he had sliced himself across the palm with the flat of his sword and now watched blood well in his palm.

"the man i love calls me eagle," he heard himself say, voice thickened and gruff. he turned away and sought composure in the faintness of a rabbit trail.
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#9
When Eagle's tone changed, Skáld shied away from him, his expression troubled. With a shoulder turned to him once more, he felt dismissed, and flattened his ears while he meandered pointlessly, daring not to follow. He was sensitive to tone, and fretted that he'd offended Eagle. He sat, determining that his presence was no longer welcomed, and he exhaled a puff of air while hovering his muzzle near another seedy dandelion, emitting a whine that carried the little seed parachutes along in a whisper of an apology.
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#10
too harsh! too harsh.

"nothing is wrong. forgive me."

his voice was a rumble that scudded across the soft faces of the petaled flowers.

a paw, lifted to cradle a floating seed.

a swing of his tail.

please forgive me.
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#11
It was difficult for Skáld to forgive sometimes, considering how many times he had been left behind- but Eagle's apology seemed genuine. He was gentle when he lifted a paw to provide a landing spot for the seed, a gesture that the boy found incredibly endearing. He considered for a moment, wary of putting all of his trust in a man who seemed simultaneously so cold and gentle, but decided to give him a chance. 

He meandered forward, sheepishly, trying to look as comfortable as he could. He approached tentatively to inspect the seed that'd landed on Germanicus' paw, before he touched his muzzle lightly to the man's shoulder in forgiveness. 

he frisked ahead, then, with all seeming well. He stopped, one forepaw held aloft when he heard the buzzing of a fuzzy bumblebee, and watched as it zig-zagged overhead. He looked back to Germanicus, uttering a soft, inviting chuff, and began to prance off again, sparing little seriousness for the task at hand, but grateful for the invitation nonetheless.
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#12
germanicus had forgotten how to play.

he had forgotten long ago how to move his body when it was not in service to someone or something.

his legs were helplessly rooted as he watched skáld gently frolic through the summer-rich fields.

forgiveness, given. he drifted, leaden, away from his patrol and after the other, pausing to follow the trajectory of more bees, seeing how in loyal service they guided one another from bloom to wildbloom.
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#13
Skáld wouldn't stray far from the borders, but he had already forgotten that there were some tasks that needed to be done- such as marking and investigating the scents that crossed through the area. Here where the wildflowers bloomed, he could flit as a butterfly, whirling as a buzzing bee passed him by, to investigate which flower it flew to next. They were harmless to him so long as he kept his nose out of the flower until the bee vacated. 

He wandered past a patch of buttercups, and paused. Her wasn't sure this was the sort of trick that Germanicus would already know...Or that he would appreciate it at all, He plucked one of the shiny flowers still on a long stem, and trotted toward Germanicus with it in his mouth. "Chin, up!" He invited. "I tell you like sunshine or no, with flower. Chin up?" He said, demonstrating, with the flower still dangling from his teeth.
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#14
the eagle found a scent-mark due for refreshment and busied himself there as he kept an ear turned for skáld's step.

it came wreathed in the scent of flowers. for a moment germanicus was confused, and then he blinked.

a game?

a game to figure whether or not he enjoyed sunshine.

the man was no longer sure its warmth could reach inside his veins.

he lifted his chin all the same.
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The buttercup stem was held gently, though he couldn't help but press his tongue against it to hold it still. It tasted wrong, compared to other plants, but not knowing any better, he ignored the little instinct in his brain that was warning him, as he wanted to see if Eagle would indulge his request. He looked a little bit skeptical, Skáld thought, but he wasn't going to let that stop him. 

He tilted his head sideways so the shiny yellow petals of the buttercup could catch the light of the sun. He held it just below Eagle's chin, and giggled as immediately, the grey fur there took on a bright golden hue. "You like," He confirmed. "Very yellow," He explained, touching the tip of his nose to Eagle's chin as he pulled away, the buttercup still dangling from his mouth. He set it down gently, and kneaded the ground eagerly with his claws. He tilted hic chin up and chuffed, inviting Eagle to now test him to see if he too liked the sunshine.
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#16
it was a simple game, relying upon the buttery light and the tilt of the flower.

germanicus felt a minute thaw inside himself. he took up the flower easily enough, a small smile wishing to begin on his lips.

he held it up to the young kvarsheim wolf. "the flower says you adore the sun, very much."

the eagle set it down, regarding the other with some warmer expression that acknowledged and appreciated what had been achieved.
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#17
”We same!” Skáld announced happily. He’d just known that the flower would say the same to him. He spent so much time among the flowers now, he felt that he had earned some comrade roe from them.

 ”Eagle  has favourite colour?” He asked then, still mindful of the location of some of his favourite plants.
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#18
favorite color?

he thought of the moon shifting overhead, of how it rolled through skies of navy tint and blackened swathe.

stars upon its elegant hide.

but the stars made him think of crowfeather, and now his own gaze took on again that anguished and faraway expression.

"i love the color of gold."

a breath, tearing in his chest.

"what is yours?"
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Skáld imagined that Eagle might be trying to flatter him by choosing the colour of the flower which had only moments ago been held beneath his chin. Pleased that this might be a little moment they shared, where the man had softened toward him so much, Skáld wished to say the same- but knew he might only be doing so to garner favour. Instead, he recalled a conversation he had had with Inkeri, and he smiled. 

"Green." he said, gesturing with a sweep of his muzzle toward the grasses, leaves, and trees. "Green, of life," He said with a faint smile. "I show you green place?" He suggested, thinking of a mossy patch in the forest that he thought Eagle might like. 

He hoped the man might warm to him, someday. It had been worth watching him go from being so distant, to sharing a smile- something Skáld would try to do with more wolves over time.
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