Moonspear Like a toreador

Autumn began to sweep in, rustling leaves from branches to fall into piles of leaf litter and skitter about on the ground. Frost-laced, the valley at the mountain's base took on a rosy hue in the early hours of dawn, and the birds that had once heralded the morning had already begun to seek warmer lands. Starlings grouped in great, wavering murmurations as they gathered for the journey, winging from tree to tree like a mindful cloud. 

The mountains were as they had been described, and the young woman's tail swept from side to side at her hocks to see what had once been the thing of stories suddenly rear into life. Cast in the mountain's lavender shadow, she approached, heart racing as she drew nearer and nearer the civilization she had heard about long ago. 

It wasn't to the ocean that the girl flew, but to the peak. Valley-born, she was prepared for a change and a challenge.

A somber mood matched September’s stormy weather. The Moonwomen sang their deaths songs and their voices echoed across the mountainside. But what of the husband and sister who could not sing? For them, time would be the only balm for grief’s deep wound.

The pack took no shortcuts when it came to comforting the new family. Rodyn’s sons would want for nothing, nursed by their Aunt and Elentari and watched over by every packmember. Njord had organized a hunt to supply fresh meat for the adults and growing children. It was the only way – to provide for family in need – for village Moonspear knew no other.

Yet, Njord could not deny the toll it took on his spirit and body. He had yet to fully recover from the vicious tiger attack and its emotional toll. Still, there was much work that needed to be done. Today, he tracked a new trail through the woods. It was only coincidence that his path crossed the stranger’s – he spotted her down in the foothills cutting through the heather. Njord’s ears pricked as he began his descent to intercept her.

The closer the wolf came to the mountain, the smaller she felt. In the distance, it had reached toward the heavens with a mighty pitch, but as she neared its base she became more aware of its true grandeur. Acres and acres of foothills sprawled out at its base, where forests covered its shoulders like epaulettes. Here, where the earth rose and fell before the sudden shift, would be the place elks might roam, deer too. Here, they would race through forests, and climb to higher pastures in the winter. Here, they could be herded into a basin or toward a gully to be hunted; here was a home for wolves.

 She could smell the scent of wolf growing heavier and heavier, and spotted a figure approaching through the woodline. She stopped, tufted ears flicking forward to hear is she might be warned and chased off. She wetted her nose, and discerned the male's scent as being one of those present along the borders, and inferred then that this was either a guardian or a leader. 

Turning broadside to him, she swung her head low and passed her tongue over her lips, casting a whale-eyed look in his direction so he would know she intended no harm. Her tail waved quickly at her ankles; it had been a long time since she had had to speak with her body in this way, and she could only hope she was doing it right.

Njord’s pace changed to a lofty trot as he descended. His red tail was held high, but it waved loosely like a ribbon. It broadcasted that he was authoritative, but also inquisitive of this vagrant who approached his pack. Her unique silhouette and coloring was not one he recognized, present or past.

True strangers at Moonspear’s borders were a rare occurrence, maybe once every other full moon. More often than not, their visitors were acquaintances, friends, or kin. The Moonpacks possessed a strong reputation in this region and their ranks reflected the strong family ties they maintained.

It made Njord reminisce about the Copse. Meerkat and the girls were supposed to have moved there by now… he would have been patrolling those borders instead, if life hadn’t thrown them a couple of curve balls.

As he drew nearer, Njord gained a better sense of the wolf’s mien. It was a petite female, long-furred even in the summer, whose pelage reminded the man of Seal’s friend, Frolic.

His ears pitched forward as the tempo of his waving tail increased. A lick of his lips mirrored hers and telegraphed that he was not looking for a confrontation today. Njord stepped forward to take her scent - a wolf’s handshake.

Her optimism grew to see the lightness of his step, and the way the plume of his red tail swayed. They were well-met, she thought, as she ambled willingly forward to meet him, faithful that his intentions were as true as he made them to be. He had a kind look to him, and in spite of the scars, she didn't take him for a scrapper. There was a mildness about his lips that proclaimed no devil, and a softness to his navy blue eyes that made his gaze featherlight. 

She turned to hover her parted lips over the fur along his shoulder, tilting her head so he could investigate her scent as well. He smelled of earth and of glacier water, of a wife and what she imagined might be this year's children. Traces of something herbal floated about him, and the wounds she saw were healing, but recent. Her tufted ears trembled when she spied long, raking lines in his fur. A large cat, she figured, and she looked over his hips toward the mountain that rose behind him. Doubt crept in when she wondered how many mountain lions prowled the area. 

She stepped back and looked to him then, blinking her large, silverish owl-eyes at him before she gave him a friendly bob of her head. "Peace be," came her high, faint voice.

Together, they shared scent. In her furs mingled a cocktail of aromas, evidence that this woman was a traveler. Sweet grass from the vallies, rich earth from dusty trails, and riverweed from water crossings. Was she a trader or simply a dispersal who hoped to carve out a place like so many before her?

The man thought of his son, Ray, and hoped that, like this wolf, he was happy and in good health.

Peace be. The vagrant’s delicate voice matched her refined appearance.

“Greetings, lass,” Njord replied in his typical Scottish accent. “Ye’ve found Moonspear’s borders. My name’s Njord. How might Ah help ye?” he asked

Her tufted ears lifted to catch the lilt of his voice, low and heavy and rolling like hills covered in heather. She looked up toward the mountain's peak at the mention of its name, lips parting in awe. She couldn't help but wonder if the moon looked any bigger from the summit as it passed over in the night. The question left a shimmering in her eyes, which turned back to take in the oceanic blue eyes of the- well, he hadn't given her a title, but she felt certain he was a leader. 

"Am l-looking for home," She said, her high sweet voice like a larksong. "Am Simbelmyne...Em, Myna, if, preferred." She said, with a friendly smile that made her eyes squint.

She was neither trader nor vacationer, but a wolf on a search for a new destiny. Njord could empathize and he became curious if she was simply a dispersal, like his son, or if there were deeper motives behind her owl eyes. Either way, she appeared sincere and honest.

“Myna, then,“ Njord repeated agreeably with a small, fishhooked grin. ”Moonspear could verrae well be a home for you. Our packs oft welcomes new members, like yerself.“ He briefly looked over his shoulder to admire the distant peak.

“Our clan is the village kind. We’re family tae one another, though we may all have different beliefs or ways of life. Our leader is Sialuk. She is the daughter of Kukutux, who leads Moonglow nearby. There are three Moonvillages… soon to be four.” Saltshore… Njord made a mental note to check in on Rhaegal, Vaire, and their little ones who would have been born by now.

“Me… my family an’ I joined Sialuk tae help her settle this place last winter,” he explained.

His ears cupped towards Simbelmyne as he gauged her interest. Was this the type of place she desired? Njord couldn’t help but imagine matchmaking her with Alaric.

“So… where are you coming from, Myna? What drew you to our spear?” he asks.

She watched fondness creep into his features when he turned to look at the peak, and found it improved her impression of him already. He came to assume that many of the others here were like her- wanderers who had dispersed from a small, family pack, with a desire to make their own home and look for genetic diversity as well, of course. Here they had come and gathered, bringing their traditions and beliefs along with them, and mingled together on their new home. It sounded ideal, to Simbelmyne. 

They were certainly thriving, as far as she could tell, to have split off into four different packs. It made her curious what the others would be like, but she suspected it would not take her very long to find out. 

When he asked her a question, she was surprised. She'd figured she might be asked what some skills were that she could offer, and make herself useful, but instead he wanted to know where she had come from. "Inland," She said, with a gesture over her shoulder. "Very deep inland. But my mum, my grandmum, from the coast," She said. "On island." She said.

Njord cared more about her character than her skills. Anything could be taught to the right pupil, he figured. Moonspear’s stability would also grant her room to explore whatever trade she wished. Plus, if she had survived such a long trek from the inland valleys then it was assured she possessed decent survivalist abilities already.

His expression widened in mild surprise when Simbelmyne explained she was descended from island-faring wolves. Njord instantly liked her a little more. Anything born from the ocean would always have a piece of his heart.

“S’that so?” he mulled. “Ah was born on an island an’ traveled tae tha mainland when Ah came of age.” But, there were many islands along the coast and so Njord felt the chances of them being the same were slim. Little did he know that they shared a common Corten thread in the great quilt that was Teekon’s bloodlines.

“So, ye say ye look for a home, havin’ left inland. Why did ye leave?” he asked. “An’ what do ye hope tae find that ye didnae have before? Status? Rank? Children?” Njord postulated, though his tone was flat and nonjudgemental. He didn't peg her as the prospecting type, but he earnestly wanted to know what motivated her. What would make her happy in a new home?

Her heart fluttered, feeling a kinship blossom between them. For a fleeting moment she considered asking him if he knew of her family- though when she considered her mother's age in comparison to how old she guessed he might be, it didn't seem likely. Her mother had been a child, still, when the wolves of Undersea had chosen to roam inland. She felt it might make her seem naive if she asked if he had heard of those wolves, so she refrained. 

Her tail waved and her expression lifted when he asked her about her reasoning for leaving. She blushed, and a private smile kept her lips quieted for a moment. Bashfully, she nodded. "Uhm, yes?" She stated, her eyes squinting as she smiled, expression fey and shy. "New home, a place to have new family," She confessed. "My home is all family- very dear family, but...Need uhm. Find new," She said, hoping her explanation might be a gentle way of saying that she was in search for genetic diversity. 

Few young men had come to her birthplace. "I have...Nine sisters," And each of them fair, well-spoken and friendly, like a pod of sirens. Among them, she had felt considerably more quiet, easily lost in the crowd.

Oohh.

A deep, hearty, highlander laugh made Njord’s blue eyes twinkle. “Nine?? I see!” he exclaimed jovially. It warmed his heart to hear that Simbelmyne possessed a large and beloved family…. it reminded him of the Redhawks.

“Well, Ah’d like to officially welcome ye tae join village Moonspear if it suites ye,” he announced. Then, Njord angled his body as if he was opening a door. “Come, Ah will show ye the way and introduce ye tae tha others,” he offered.

His laughter was loud, but kind. It seemed perhaps that he understood what she'd implied, though she had to wonder as well if he fully understood why it was that of all the girls, she had been the one to leave. She doubted he might understand- after all, he said he was a family man, likely with a wife and children of his own. Someone had seen him and wanted him, chosen him. Myna had been seen, but overlooked time and time again. 

Perhaps here it might be different, though, she thought. There might be less competition, and she might finally be noticed. To be welcomed, at least, was a good place to start and she swept forward, tail waving, to follow him toward the peak.