Hoshor Plains laced up boots, wandering soul

There were so many new faces and strange new scents. Valiant had lost track of Raindrop. He searched for her distractedly, dizzy with anticipation. He hoped she was making friends, and he had an idea to try and make some new friends, himself — but his gaze just kept sliding over the gathering, and he was blind until he caught sight of the dusty beige of a familiar coat.

"@Vairë!" he called out to catch her attention, threading through the gathering with an extra spring in his step. Earlier, he'd hoped to catch her out of sight of Kukutux, just so he would not have to split his short supply of attention — but he had tunnel vision, now, and an extra spring in his step. "Have you ever seen so many packs gathered in one place?"

It was thrilling. Valiant felt his fur quilling in anticipation of the hunt, like gooseflesh prickling down his spine. His rose-gold gaze swept the gathering one more time before settling intently on Vairë. An unconscious smile tugged at his lips.

So many mingled around her, and in the middle of it all Vairë kept her eyes on her children. At least they were occupied for now, but when she left for the hunt, she wouldn’t put it past Salasartok to try and join in.

Maybe she should warn her mother.

A voice rose above the din and she turned to find a grey clad figure, thankfully not her sister’s paramour. Vairë twisted to face him, her tail wagging at the sight of his face.

Valiant! She pressed through the crowd to get to his shade, eyes dancing with happiness.

No, never! There are more packs here than I have ever seen! She pressed her shoulder to his when she turned, needing a bit of a buffer from the crowd.

It makes me glad my children are occupied. Who knows what would happen otherwise!

Valiant meant to stand before her, but he was pleased when she stood beside him instead. He was preternaturally aware of every inch of her small frame when her shoulder pressed against his. He leaned back with a fraction of his weight. Like a Christian side hug, except the kind where Jesus shakes his finger at you because you're sniffing the other person like a creep.

Valiant searched their surrounding for the children, and his eyes fell on them with a violent pang. He felt her weight in the pit of his stomach, then, rather than against his side. He felt — hobbled. He couldn't move without disturbing her, and he wanted nothing less than he wanted her disturbed.

"Are you gonna hunt with us?" he asked her, his voice pitched low. "I could bring 'em somethin' back, if you want. Or somethin' for you."

Vairë grinned up at the taller man, smile so wide it crinkled her eyes at the edges. Her tail was no doubt battering his legs, but she couldn’t help its frantic waving. This was just a joyous environment, and so infectious it made her feel sickly sweet to her stomach.

It helped that they were leaning on each other. The butterflies in her stomach burst bright with bubbles and flowers and every other ditzy little thing she could think of. She’d righteously scold herself later, but this was now, and she was not thinking of then.

I got my name for a reason, you know. She teased, catching her tongue between her teeth.

I’ll be hunting with the rest of you. Though, I’m sure they’d love it if you brought them something. She leaned up to tuck her nose near his ear, better to be heard with.

Can you tell which one is which?

An chagrined huff of laughter escaped him when he realized his faux pas. Vairë was a huntress, too; he felt silly for assuming otherwise. "Then good luck," he said to her, wondering whether or not he ought to hope they were put on the same team. He wasn't sure he'd be able to focus with her around, right then. This feeling was twofold when she gave him permission to bring a gift to her children, and then threefold when he felt her breath against his ear.

"I see your spring blossom," he replied, nodding to Nasamiituuq. "And this one — " he gestured next to Salaksartok. "Your anaa called him monster boy. So I'll guess he's he victorious one. And that makes him Ipiktok."

Okay, so — he was still not sure he could pronounce Salaksartok. He hoped she would not notice, and that she would say his name again and give him just one more chance to memorize it.

Vairë looked to her children, gentle spring, valiant monster boy, thoughtful and keen deer boy. Her smile softened, gentle on her face as she observed them.

Salaksartok is very..enthusiastic. She tried in a lame defense for her eldest’s actions, but pushed it away with a little titter of a laugh. Notably, she never straightened up from her lean against Valiant.

I’m grateful to have all the family I do. I don’t know where I would be without them. Starved, probably.

You spoke to anaa? I hope it was a fruitful conversation. And that moonwoman hadn't pressed a line anywhere, though she doubted her mother would do that.

Valiant smirked, despite his best efforts, to hear Salaksartok described as such. It was in part because he could read between those lines, and in part because her shoulder shook against his, and he felt it in the marrow of his bones. This expression sobered at talk of her family — Yes, the man thought, we all need our families. He thought that Vairë's seemed especially good, which meant he had nothing bad to say about her mother.

"I brought her a parcel from Ariadne," he replied. "And I found out Dutch asked her to find me a wife."

Why had he said that?

"She didn't, though," he clarified, just in case that was something Vairë might have an opinion on. He hurried to change the subject, saying, "She gave me some things to bring back. Your sister seemed... tense. When I handed it over."

And I found out Dutch asked her to find me a wife.

It sent an iced shock through her very bones, but she did not show this. Merely sucked in her teeth and then sighed out a gale of breath. Oh dear, to expose poor Valiant to the woes of her family life.

She and Ariadne are at..something of an impasse right now regarding some decisions. I hope to see them make up soon, and spare you the details. Who knew his opinions of the winter man Ariadne had found for herself.

I am glad you had a good conversation with her.

Asked to find me a wife

She was simply not going to be normal about this.

A frown touched his features. "I hope they do, too," he replied, his tone almost fretful. It was as Vairë had said — where would anyone be without family? To have such a good one and to be at odds anyway seemed like a terrible waste. He wondered what could possibly come between the moonwoman and one of her daughters, and then decided, pointedly, to just go ahead not wonder.

"She's a good woman," he said of Kukutux, his voice low, as if this were a secret that should not go beyond them. Saying it made him aware once more of all the wolves around them, who he had been watching without really seeing until then. He blinked around at them, glancing around surreptitiously for the woman he so praised.

He had the sudden, disconcerting feeling he was doing something wrong.

"What do you think they want?" he asked her. "Horns or hooves to chew? Fat? Hide?"

She is a good woman, the man of ice says, and she nods in great agreement.

She is a woman of much wisdom. I have a lot to learn from her. She thought she always would, in some way. Conversation circled back to her children and she smiled a secret smile.

Nasamiituq would like hide, I think. She learns now how to tan them as we do. Salaksartok would no doubt enjoy a horn to chew and wave around in gentle treat. Ipiktok…perhaps a ball of fat. Something to puzzle his mind.

The doe named different things for each child, which Valiant felt then he should have expected. He dwelled on their preferences, his thoughts branching out to other gifts, future gifts —

And as if reading his mind, his rose-gold eyes finally caught on jadestone. Kukutux looked at them for a moment before she turned herself away.

"I'll bring them those things," he said, shifting slightly so that they still stood close, but perhaps not quite so intimately. "Vairë, I — "

But not even Valiant knew how he would finish that sentence. It seemed terribly presumptuous to offer gifts in anything but friendship, and so that was what these gifts must be. And even if there might be something more between them, there was an order to these things — and he was worried he was breaking it.

"I was thinkin' I might come to your momma's village to stay," he said. "After Dutch gets back. If she'll have me."

Moondoe blinked up at Valiant at the mention of bringing the children gifts. Her mouth formed words, but she noticed him glance to the side. She did as well, but with her small height, she didn’t see much.

Instead, she looked back up at Valiant. Held his eye until he spoke again.

I believe she would love to have you, Valiant. Vairë smiled, her chest warming with emotion. Inside, perhaps, the screaming grew louder in volume, accompanied by incomprehensible gargling of vowels.

That was about as positive a response as he could've hoped for. The isbjørn was stunned speechless for a moment, like a bird that had just flown-face first into a window. Vairë, in this metaphor, was a skyscraper with reflective windows. Not in that she killed between 365 million and 1 billion birds anually, devastating both native and global ecosystems — and not in the way that skyscrapers were very tall, either, because Vairë was admittedly quite short. Valiant followed this metaphor to the end of its lead and reluctantly concluded that she was not much like a skyscraper at all.

Something else stunning, then. The sun?

Let's not get into it.

"Good," he replied, his smile belying the vast inland empire that his poetic musings had left in shambles. "I'll — I'll just ask her, then. After the hunt. You'll have to show me around and introduce me to everyone."

He still had not met Aiolos, for example — but perhaps that one was better left for last.

Had Vairë an in into Valiant’s thoughts in that moment, she would have been very confused, but flattered. What woman didn’t want to be compared to several hundred tons of steel? A dream come true, the pinnacle of romance.

Even if she didn’t know a sky scraper, and would have asked how on earth you got up that high had she ever seen one. Thankfully, no wolves had gotten to a large city like that. So, she would have just taken the comparison to the sun, and been happy in the knowledge that sometimes things were just tall. It happened.

Of course! I know everyone in the village, I would be happy to introduce you. Even if she dreaded the knowing eyes and bouncing eyebrows of the women’s circle.

He wondered who everyone might consist of. Their borders smelled of far more wolves than White Spine, but markedly less than Round Valley. Were they all family, as they were in those packs? What about the greater conglomeration of moon wolves? He knew that they were led by daughters of the moonwoman, and by one son-in-law, but what about the non-leadership villagers?

"Are they all your family?" he asked her, beginning to forget their surroundings once more. The topic was one he would likely never grow tired of; he was fascinated by her connections, and how secure she seemed in their love and support. The moon wolves on the whole had this effect on him.

More to the point: "Will you tell me about them? So that I know what to expect. Are they all as nice as your momma?"

He did not say the name — but he was asking about Aiolos. He wanted to hear about the rest, of course! But having a mother and a father intact, even if they were not blood, was something he was almost wholly unfamiliar with.

These days, yes. Moonglow was old, established. Many of their number joined other villages, or sought something else. Mentally, Vairë considered some form of recruitment measures, something beyond marriage. Then, she pushed the thought away.

There is my aunt, Shikoba. Her children, Chiteo and Ajei. My little brothers, Arrluk, Kassuq, and Massaraq. Kivaluk, our first hunter, is the son of my mother’s wife. His intended, Chickadee, is babysitting the children here. Of course there is taataa, Aiolos, he is sunman. He is my father, a steady presence and just as warm as the sun. There is my littermate too, Inkalorë, they are an experienced traveller. She looked across the crowds of wolves with a smile.

We are small, smaller than most of the packs here, but it works for us.

Each wolf she named shared some relation with her. Valiant thought he could almost be jealous, if family were something he would begrudge even the meanest flea. As it was, he could only feel glad for her, and intrigued and a little intimidated by the idea of trying to connect with so many others. But Vairë did it, didn't she?

"I met Inkalorë just before I found you," he said with a swing of his tail, pleased to be able to report this. See? It wasn't so hard!

Something had been tugging at his thoughts ever since he'd first spoken with Kukutux. He knew that there was moonwoman and sunman and moondoe — were their other titles he needed to learn? More to the point, what did they mean in terms of how he was meant to comport himself? Vairë had nixed his idea of bowing.

"What does moondoe mean?" he asked her. "You explained kinda already, but..."

He made a little gesture toward his own face.

"I was curious about your scar," he said. "Your momma said I should ask you about it. How it happened — and what it means, I s'pose."

She grinned to his words of her sibling.

We look quite similar. I’m not surprised they caught your eye if you were hunting for me. On first glance, you may mistake them, if you looked from the corner of your eye. Or weren’t paying much attention.

His next question brought a contemplative expression to her face, a paw reaching up to brush her cheek. Not a self conscious gesture, merely a thoughtful one.

My totem, it is the doe. That is the easiest way to explain such. To get more complicated, I left the wilds after my first year. I..had a lot going on, at the time. I sought an answer to why my spirit felt odd within my body. It was when I left that I came across a strange herd of deer. They seemed to look right through me, and a young stag among them was said to have the heart of a wolf. Their matriarch was a cruel creature, so she laughed, told me I should have the marking of deer to show I was prey at heart. They gave me the scar. I came back home.

A signature huffy laugh escaped him. "Who says I was huntin' for you?" he teased, a little embarrassed to have been caught out so easily. He might've tried to play it off as a younger man, but now it seemed pointless to pretend she held any less interest for him than she did.

The story she told was hard for Valiant to follow. He wasn't sure if he was meant to hear it as a parable or as trufaxx™ — he would have to do some more thinking on it when he had the time and attention span.

"Do you agree with her?" he wondered. "That you're prey at heart?"

There was something to be said for that, Valiant thought. They were all prey to something, after all. Dutch would have something poetic to say about the circle of life and symbiosis. Valiant was more interested in hearing such things from the pretty moondoe than from his cousin.

Vairë’s response was a soft hip check and an over-exaggerated wink, one of her ears tipping to the side with the twist of her head to emphasize her winking eye. At least, that was the response to the first, teasing question.

The second required more thought.

I do not know. She meant it as insult. Her gaze traveled to the bison.

But even prey can kill predator, just as well as they can anything that tries to harm them. Perhaps it is not so bad a thing, to be prey.

It was impossible to entirely erase the self-satisfied grin that laughing with her always put on his face. He was deeply flattered that she would engage with him at all, and he found himself feeling just a little prideful over, for the span of this conversation, holding the majority of her attention.

Talk of totems worked well to draw his thoughts away from this small victory.

"I think we're all prey to something," he said, inwardly offended on Vairë’s behalf. Not because of the words themselves, but because of the intention behind them. He didn't understand what the point of a totem was if it was just gonna be rude to you, but he supposed spirituality had never come easily to him.

"But our hearts ain't predator or prey," he reasoned, finally lowering himself to his haunches. If this wasn't going to be a quick hello, they might as well rest their legs! "Nobody's is, if you ask me."