Moonsong Glacier And we won't let it in

When she left Moonspear, she spent her entire journey trying to figure out how she felt- measuring if she felt any differently physically, and finding that there was little change. She didn't feel more mature or wise, though she did feel as though if the situation should present itself again, that she might at least have some experience that might better her own performance. It was a relief, she thought, to have completed her Rite; now she held the knowledge shared by women and wives. 

The red had begun to fade from her legs, with her paws having nearly returned to their previous shade of beige almost completely. She wondered if she should cleanse the colouring from her feet- but felt that perhaps there was no shame in simply allowing the colour to fade on its own; it was something that others might see, and know. 

She arrived at Moonsong Glacier with a light breeze at her back, noting that the borders smelled differently. She did not dare to cross them- as she had not yet aligned herself with one Moonpack yet, and had remained a drifter for some time whilst she deliberated. She called for @Dutch, as her decision weighed heavily upon her soul. 

She could only hope he would come to understand why she had made the choice she had.

The influx of newcomers and visitors was almost more stressful than the sudden upheaval that'd elevated him to this position. The borders seemed constantly to carry the scents of wolves that did not belong to him. Without a lieutenant, he was left feeling achingly alone.

For this reason, he hunted with great fervor. Tulugak was coming home, and he wanted to greet her with fresh meat before pleading for her support. The morning star's strength had grown in Dutch's memories like the hero of a bedtime story — and he had a fanciful idea that her presence might just save them.

And then! Another voice sang, and the panther felt as though a bucket of ice water had been upended over him. He'd forgotten, he realized, to spread Simbelmyne's name in his travels. This failure crushed him as he remembered the sweet dreams she'd shared with him. Weary and downtrodden, he felt he was a poor consolation prize for the masses he'd wanted for her.

He sang — Welcome back! — and put as much heart into it as he could manage. But it was not the same confident stride that carried him to her, even if his smile was still warm and bright.

"It is good to see your face," he said, his nose twitching as he took in the scents she carried with her.

There was joy in his voice, and when she saw him, she saw friendliness in his face as well. She did not know the man's nuances well enough to notice the shimmer of stress in his eyes, or the little signs in his step that might have indicated that his thoughts weighed on him. There was a slight weariness to his stride, but his expression and voice were so welcoming, she thought little of it. She wondered what he might think, and how he might receive her news; it quivered on the tip of her tongue. 

"Yours as well," She said, with a warm smile. She moved forward to greet him nose-to-nose, knowing then that he would notice that her own scent had changed; while she came directly from Moonspear, she had not lived there for some time. And there was still the lingering red of dye left in her fur, as well; sheepishly, she stepped back, and lowered her head as if to atone. 

"I...I come to apologize, Dutch," She said. "I told you that I would come to you, but I-" She hesitated, and fidgeted lightly, flattening her long ears against her skull. "I did not want to distance myself from you. I chose Alaric for my First Rites so that I would not have to be a stranger." She admitted.

Simbelmyne was warm like sunshine. He greeted her with an affectionate nuzzle, inwardly puzzling at the lack of pack scent on her pelt. Where had she been staying? This concern made the scent of her coupling a secondary note, albeit one that followed Alaric's name with several exclamation points. In this mire of emotion, he found himself unable to form anything but a whine of glad welcome and answered prayer.

She was safe, and she was happy. This was what was important.

The concept of First Rites was still puzzling to the panther. There had been a time, years ago now, when he had reveled in being the first man allowed into Auk's bed. Now that felt almost childish, for although it had certainly gotten the job done, he was sure the experience had been underwhelming for the sea queen's daughter. He was only glad that Simbelmyne had not gone to a young, inexperienced man for this thing.

Not that he knew anything about Alaric's level of experience — but Alaric was a fox. Of course he had experience.

"My mother likes to say: a woman should not have to regret the men she doesn't sleep with," he said to her, his voice warm. "You have done me no wrong, Simbelmyne. Especially if choosing me would mean we could not see each other again."

Then he wilted, just a little.

"It is the other way around, in fact," he said, an apology in his tone. "I meant to speak your name to other men on my hunt — but I did not. I will do this when I go out again, if it pleases you."

If there was anything to apologize for, she certainly felt forgiven. She chuffed quietly, impressed with the words his mother had told him. "Your mother must be clever," She said, with a thoughtful tone. She made a very fair point- and it made her feel a bit better about choosing someone other than Dutch. Chakliux had made it fairly clear that he would prefer for her to choose someone else so that he wouldn't have to stay away, but Dutch had seemed pleased when she'd told him she would seek him out. Regardless, he didn't seem disappointed or jealous that she had gone to Alaric; it was a good sign. 

His features softened and the glimmer in his eyes was replaced with sadness when he spoke again. She couldn't help but feel disappointed to find out that he had not shared her name with any other men. Given the fact that she had not fulfilled her own promise, she let it slide, and sought his gaze. "It is alright; I am still young," She said. "And you were busy. How did the hunt go?" She asked, as she sat.

Another time, Dutch might have taken the chance to disparage the woman — all in loving jest, of course! But at this, he had to concede: "Very much so." He was still a little awed by the strange magicks she'd called on to bring his brother back to life.

Simbelmyne's forgiveness soothed some of the ache in his spirit, but little could save him from the spiral of self-doubt that stress had imposed on him. It would take more time for him to find his footing. In the meantime, he continued to feel strangely brittle. It made him wish for the lodge by the sea, and for Tulugak's confident presence, and yes, even for his mother. He tracked these things in his mind, tracing them to their origins but finding little peace in his understanding of them.

"Not well," he admitted, subdued. "He got away. There was a bear. I was injured, for a time."

He let out a slow, uneven breath.

"Much has happened since we last spoke," he told her. "Ariadne and Kaluktuk have left us. Many of the wolves that I departed from were not here when I returned. There is... a darkness. In the valley." He turned his face away, searching for better news to pass on. He grasped on one thing:

"Chakliux fares well," he told her, mustering up some enthusiasm. "His sons grow strong. His wives have come into season. I visited — " A comforting warmth sparked in his chest. "In the springtime, they will be the blood of my blood."

Concern pursed her lips and knit her brows closer together. She felt a stitch of fear rise up her spine to know he had been in a fight with a bear- while on a manhunt for a vicious wolf. While she hoped that the man would be caught and punished, she was tempted to wish that they might simply give up on their quest, if it meant sparing more lives from other potential dangers. 

More came- news of wolves who had left the pack, names she recognized as having belonged to the former leaders. With them gone, Dutch seemed to have taken on the role, which she would have gauged from the changed scent at the borders. She blinked when he spoke of darkness, not knowing what to make of that. "Spring will come," She interjected, reassuringly, "And the darkness will pass." Quite literally- the days grew longer and longer, and she hoped that it might lift his spirits to concentrate on the coming season. 

He changed the topic, and Simbelmyne would have dismissed Chakliux in a heartbeat to soothe Dutch further, had he not mentioned a term she had not heard before. "What is 'blood-of-my-blood?'" She asked. "Chakliux- is he your brother?" She'd never made the connection, nor had the two introduced each other as such, so she was surprised to hear, now, that they (or their children) might be related.

The words Simbelmyne shared with him were much like the ones said to him by Chickadee. Like it had then, the certainty and simplicity of these things drew him out of darker thoughts. The spring would come. That was irrefutable.

It gave him enough heart smile at Simbelmyne's question.

"A brother is someone with whom you have shared a womb," he said, his tone putting an odd spin on these words. "You could call us brothers, then, perhaps." It was a crude joke, and though he'd amused himself with it, a shine in his eyes belied the weight of the matter. "It is a private thing. These children will be born to him, in his lodge, but they will still carry a part of me."

He'd treasured such a bond once before, seemingly a lifetime ago. This one, he thought, would not end the same.

"But tell me what you've been up to," he said, his eyes twinkling once more. He wanted to know just generally, of course — but he was curious about her time with Alaric as well.

At first, she did not understand- until he explained further what he had meant when he'd said that he had been to their lodge, while they had been in season. The realization of what he said caused her luminous eyes to widen and bulge, and her ears flick forward and back, uncertain. 

"Does Chakliux know?" She asked, almost hurriedly, and for a moment, scrutiny appeared in her features though she found it difficult to believe that Dutch would do such a thing without permission but- even getting permission to do such a thing was unheard of, from her point of view. 

She would ignore his question until she received an answer that put her at ease.

The reaction was unsurprising to him, although it still twisted unpleasantly in his belly.

"Yes," he said at once, although it was not exactly as Simbelmyne thought — he had not been granted any permission. Not aloud, at least. Not in so many words.

A soft sigh.

"I will bring meat and gifts to his lodge. I will treasure his family as I do my own, each to the last. This is a bond between men; we know that we will bleed for the same things." He searched her eyes for understanding. "Chakliux has my trust and respect. His wives and his sons respect him also. So too will all the children born to his lodge this spring. And he will have what is most precious to me."

"Oh, good! I am relieved," She said, exhaling with a smile. Sleeping with the wife of a married man had only led to disaster in her experience, but it seemed that in their brother-like commitment to one another, they could both potentially benefit from the situation. The women would benefit as well, having two men dote on their children. 

"I am to congratulate you then- and to pass on congratulations to Tullik and-" She realized then that she didn't know who the second one was. "Has Nasamik returned?" She asked then, hopefully. 

He spoke of the deep bond between the two families, seemingly merged in some ways by shared blood. Dutch spoke of Chakliux with nothing but respect and fondness, and it warmed her heart to know that he might find himself a father come Spring. "Will you have children here also? On the Glacier?" She asked next.

"Marina," the chief supplied, speaking her name with a sad smile. "Nasamik has not returned." Dutch suspected she was dead; what else could keep a woman from her son?

"And it is Chakliux and his wives who should receive congratulation," he added, though he'd been pleased to receive it all the same. "It is not — secret — but they are his wives, and they will be his children. My place in this will be secondary to his and his wives'."

This did not hurt him. Not the way his place in the lives of Auk's children had. He could still be someone to them, this way. Still be family, even if he was not their father. He could still offer them the same degree of love he'd wished to offer his first children.

The question Simbelmyne asked next troubled him.

"I do not know," he admitted. "I have no wife, and I don't think I could stand to have children who would not be born into a whole family. I hope that there will be children, though, even if they are not mine."

Marina. Simbelmyne's head tilted her head to the side. That was a new one- one Chakliux had not mentioned when she had seen him last...But she knew him to be a busy man, and it was not unlikely that he had taken another wife in that time. He had brought Tullik to Moonspear just before Simbelmyne had left the pack. 

She was discouraged to hear that Nasamik had not yet returned. 

She showed support for the growing family with a smile and a wave of her tail. "I would like to meet them very much," She said. She longed for a sisterhood, where they could speak freely, tell stories, share meals...She had had many sisters when she had grown up, and she missed them sorely now. 

Dutch seemed content to have family to visit, but did not yet have a family of his own- but who hoped that others might bring life to the Glacier. Her ears flicked back, sheepishly. 

"Dutch, I...I left Moonspear," She admitted. "It was so cold, and lonely; they did not make me feel like family," She said, though she hoped he might not hold that against him- or against her, for not fitting in. "I am trying to fit in, I just...I am having hard time finding a place."

The panther's tail wagged as well — the family meant much to him, even if he'd only met Marina and Tullik just once. He was eager to see them grow, and he knew he would still be eager even if he hadn't contributed to said growth.

"You should visit them when Chakliux returns from the seal ice," he said to her, hoping that Marina and Tullik would be as welcoming to Simbelmyne as they had been to him. The sons of Chakliux, he knew, would be very pleased to meet her.

Her scent made a little more sense when she told him she'd departed from Moonspear. He was sad for the time she'd spent feeling cold and alone.

"My brother felt much the same when he resided in Moontide," Dutch told her, aiming to comfort. "But he has found a home now in Moonglow. There is no shame in this."

He pressed a kiss to her cheek.

"Stay here with us," he said, gaining enthusiasm as the idea occurred to him. "For as long as you like. And if you decide you would be happier elsewhere — " He didn't like the idea, he realized. "Well. I will be happy if you are happy," he decided.

The seal ice; Chakliux had gone hunting? It did not surprise her- the men of these packs were capable hunters who kept their pack well-supplied with food. She considered visiting the women soon- perhaps when the ice began to melt. 

She was relieved to hear that others had shuffled around in their pack status- still a part of the sisterhood of packs as a whole, but in choosing one home that suited them best. ”Thank you, Dutch,” She said. He was an empathetic and intuitive man, to know what it was that needed to be spoken in order to help make her feel better. 

And she warmed to the idea of staying with Morningsong, welcoming it with a nod. When his lips grazed her cheek she moved forward with a sigh, to lean against his chest. She uttered a small chuckle as she felt a heavy cape of stress finally lift from her shoulders. Here, where he was warm, gentle and understanding…She couldn’t imagine going anywhere else. 

”Thank you, Dutch,” she said, lifting her head so she could kiss him just behind his ear. 

It was then, though, that she caught a hint of scent that belonged to another woman. She dismissed the thought- he had just told her that he had been with the wives of Chakliux, and he had told her that he had no wife and that he might not have any prospects, either. 

Perhaps that might change, she wondered. 

”Will you help me find a sleeping place?” She asked, rosy-cheeked and smiling, now that she knew she had a home.

Dutch laughed, gladly leaning into her touch — "You do not need to thank me for this," he assured her. "And of course, I will show you to our common place. It is where we take some of our meals, and near to where some of the pack make their beds."

He remained close, guiding her with the occasional bump of his shoulder rather than leading ahead.

"You can go and speak to Eira if you want to help with the pelts we bring in," he suggested, his tail swishing in satisfaction as he thought of seeing Simbelmyne among them. "And Leith if it is medicine that interests you. Otherwise, I only hope you will join us on our deer hunts when the call rises."

He told her a little bit about all the hunters — how Fallen Sun and Towhee Junior didn't speak in words, and how Sulukinak was quiet, but quite sweet when you got to know her. And he mentioned Tulugak —

"I have received word she is returning to us," he told Simbelmyne. "Perhaps if she is not yet tired of the road, we can if she will spread word that you seek a husband. And if not her — I am sure there will be someone who can. There is another message I would like to send out anyway."

She wanted to be close to the others- no longer separated from them by daring. The mountain had been too formidable for the forest-dweller, and while the breeze coming off the Glacier was cool, it didn't frighten her with the threat of a fall or a rockslide. She moved alongside him as he began to lead her toward the common place, glancing his way every now and again when he said something that caused her ears to prick. 

Eira. Her head lifted at the mention of working with pelts. She remembered Seal fondly, and how she had helped Simbelmyne learn how to improve her pelts. She thought of Kukutux, stretching out the skins with stones; it felt right to have someone here who could continue to teach her these skills. "I would like that- to learn how to make fine pelts and skins," She said, eager to learn the craft if Eira had knowledge to share. It would give the men reason to come to her as well- bringing their catches for her to handle. 

She gave him an eager nod when he mentioned hunting deer as well; to the art of learning medicines, she said nothing. She listened as he mentioned her packmates, made curious by those who did not speak, and intrigued by the one he mentioned with a touch of fondness in his voice. Of importance seemed to be one called Tulugak- a name rich in consonant sounds, belonging to one she perceived as a scout. 

A truth made itself known when he spoke of her search for a husband; and she realized then that she felt disappointed that he was so willing to spread the word. While he had mentioned before that he did not intend to take a wife, not until he had another to help with their family, she couldn't help but feel disappointed that he seemed disinclined to change his ways now that she had come to him. It made sense now that he had so readily accepted the offer to perform her First Rites; she felt something heavy grow in her throat, and she swallowed it down. 

It was her fault, for allowing her imagination to think he might be unusually fond of her. She had known men to be kind to her before completely overlooking her in preference for one of her sisters. She felt disappointed to remember what it felt like to have unrequited affection. 

She would have to temper her feelings; allow Dutch's scout to spread the word. It would be a waste of the Scout's time, anyway, if she sent them out to spread the word, only to deny any suitors who came for her because the one she truly wanted lived within her pack...One who did not want a wife. 

"I would appreciate this, too," She said. Perhaps a trip to see Kukutux would cheer her up. She could learn of what the bride price might be, if any came looking for her. 

"What other message?" She asked, unable to hide her curiosity.

The addition of Eira to their ranks already seemed like such a blessing; he was pleased when this decision blessed another as well — one that he was unusually fond of, even if he took great pains to squash such emotions.

Dutch knew that he was a good prospect. He was the head of his village, even if both the village and the title were new. He was tall and strong. He was kind and even-tempered. He was charming — he thought this even at times when he was otherwise humble.

Simbelmyne had drawn his attention right from their first meeting. Her beauty was rare, and her features were the sort the grew lovelier the longer one looked upon them. If he let himself, he knew that he would fall hard and fast with her impish smile and her soft, warm voice.

He wanted to. What a relief it would be! What solace!

But that was the problem. Right then, Dutch wanted to be held. He wanted to be cherished. He wanted to be saved, and it would not be fair to ask anyone to do the saving, let alone Simbelmyne. And so the idea of loving her was as exhausting as it was appealing; how would he take care of her? How would he keep her safe? How would he give her the attention she deserved?

He was not sure how much Simbelmyne actually expected or desired from him, but he did his best to be gentle as he made his place in this clear. And when she was caught by the next topic he'd thrown out, he felt he had done his due dilligence.

"I think that we should have a festival," he replied, his tail sweeping gleefully. "We will invite all who will hear of it, near and far. We will come together in the summer, before the days grow short again — to share the songs and dances and stories and legends of each others' people."

His eyes gleamed. He was excited.

Her head tilted, but her ears quivered at the mention of having a festival. She knew of them- but like many other things in life, she had not excelled in anything in particular without being completely overshadowed by one of her talented sisters. Others were more graceful when they danced, more charming in song, and more compelling with their storytelling. And while she enjoyed fully what others had to share, such demonstrations often made her very aware of how she was lacking. 

Still- perhaps there was something she could learn by then, some way she could make herself useful. Dutch's enthusiasm made it easier for her to brush her insecurities aside, and she smiled. "I will help in any way I can," She said. "I could-" She paused. She could not be a starlet, not like the others- but if others were coming from far away, she knew she could be useful in keeping them comfortable. "Help with hospitality," She said, her statement sounding more like a question or an offering. 

Whether it was keeping visitors fed, or providing them with a sleeping place, she felt certain she could be useful- while still being comfortably invisible.

Dutch laughed.

"That would be much appreciated," he replied, his voice earnest. "But it is far off still. In the mean time, we will focus on finding you a worthy match."

He sprang up, his tail wheeling in sudden, manic enthusiasm. He dashed off, looking over his shoulder to be sure that Simbelmyne was following. There was a fine hide that he'd begged from @Eira not long before — a hareskin of mottled white and silver. He brought it near and nosed it gently toward her paws.

"Sleep with this," he instructed, his gaze shifty, suddenly; suggestive. "We will find another for you as well. When we send out word, they will carry your scent with them. This will entice them." Dutch had been enticed by less.

Again, she felt a pang of conflicting emotions when it was mentioned that he would seek a match for her. It was so unlike what she had known, growing up- and while she longed for someone to want her, the thought of being advertised felt unfamiliar. She did not want to seem desperate; she could only hope that Dutch didn't think she was so unworthy of attraction that others must canvas the countryside in search of one who might not only look upon her with want, but with love. 

Still, it was seemingly the way things were, here, and she accepted his help with a brave smile that lingered only for a moment- to be replaced with a look of shock when the man stood suddenly, tail thrashing about behind him, and bolted off. Her eyes flew wide and she blinked with surprise as he glanced back over his shoulder. She scrambled to her feet and lunged after him, following his footsteps when she lost sight of him in the confusion. When she found him again- just seconds later- he had a lovely pelt which he presented to her. 

She admired it, breathless both from surprise and from the sudden effort. She looked up to him, and glanced back down to the pelt- realizing only then the change in his expression which lured her eyes back to his once more. She shuddered, easily overwhelmed by the implication that he found her scent attractive, and that others might too. It caused her to forget, at least temporarily, about her insecurities. 

"I will," She said, and with her blood singing in her veins, she gave him a coy smile. "And I will dream of someone warm."

Dutch had grown numb to the ache of it. Loneliness had been his way of life too long for him to recognize the pangs for what they were. He knew that he wanted, but wants were such fickle things, were they not? He had to keep his eyes ahead; this foresight a hard-learned lesson taught by its equally painful cousin: hindsight.

The want that had most endured over the years was the want to go back, to act differently when Auk stood before him, proud and fiery but, ultimately, indifferent to his presence. He wanted this, but he could not wish it without also wishing his sons and daughters out of existence. He wished he could've had them with someone else instead; someone who would not have raised them to be just as indifferent to him.

For all that he loved to psychoanalyze those around him, Dutch was woefully unprepared to diagnose his own neuroses. He only knew that he could not have the things he wanted, but that Simbelmyne could and should. What kind of world did they live in if a woman like her was still unattached despite wanting so ardently to be courted? It wrong, and Dutch wanted to right it the say way he ended stories with happily ever after.

"Dream well," he replied, eminently pleased purely because she seemed pleased. But the ultimate pleasure, he told himself, would be seeing her happy, wed, and surrounded by her adoring children.

(Very carefully, he did not look at the face of that imaginary husband.)