Bearclaw Valley In dewy heads of the young, nothing will fail

Sven had hunted for days. He had fought hard and strong to gather the 4 brace of ducks he now carried to teh borders of Bearclaw. But their scent markers were stale. His ears found their way to his skull and he looked about worried and scared. 

He lay the ducks to the ground and lifted his nose to send out a small questioning howl. Was all okay in the valley? Did he need to tell his brothers? Oh heavens. 

He felt as if the Valley itself was falling sick and dead. So many packs were losing their numbers. He weaved his tail against his hocks and he waited and he hoped that someone would greet him. Because if not. Would his pack be next to be lost.

Ameline was on her way to the valley’s lone entrance when a howl met her ears. It was a voice she was not sure she recognized- but an accent that did sound somewhat familiar. She uttered a call for @Ancelin so he might know she was attending the summons. 

She and her husband managed, shifting between their roles as parents as well as guardians of the valley- which was protected by the nature of the landscape. Any attempt at crossing the borders would result in a plummet and certain death. 

So they were left to mind the one place where one could safely enter or exit and rise up into the Rising Sun Valley. The narrow passage was marked daily by the Bearclaws, and while they could no longer afford to have a wolf on watch on the sentry stone at the passage’s entrance at all times, they made sure that their markings were clear.

She squinted at the wolf who had come and called for them. He had a friendly mien, and at his feet lay a pile of ducks. An offering, she wondered? Or a temptation.

She eyed him for a moment; had Bearclaw gained more guardians and hunters, she might have bolted toward him to chase him off and steal his kills. The mere thought of it raised her heart-rate. He would be easy to flip and pin, she thought; it had been too long since she’d had a good fight…

From Kvarsheim, right? She asked. His scent was familiar to her now, as was his face- but she couldn’t remember if it was this wolf she’d met, or a brother of his. Nice of you to come with food, She said, her tone lightly joking.

Sven was born to trusting parents. Parents who saw the good in the many. But unfortunately in his youth and abandonment. He had learned that life was not always fair. And not everyone looked out for you. In some cases many would do you harm.

He saw this and knew this. But he still held faith that the wolves of bear claw had his packs best interests at heart at least as allies.

A nod yes. I am Sven. We have met Anceline and Athalia. We promised a hunt or food.

He dipped his muzzle and stepped away from the ducks.

Sven- not a name she recognized. She’d thought the ones she’d met had had names that started with a B, perhaps…The younger one had a name that she hadn’t even truly caught when it had been spoken to her the first time. This one, however- his name was simple, but…Not so simple for Ameline. 

Thven, Short, but still a mouthful. She looked to the ducks. C’mon. If you help me bring thethe in, I’ll take you trout fishin’ in the river an’ you can take home what we catch. Thound good?

Sven hadn't met this one, but he assumed she was Matriarch by her bearing and her grace. And he was glad it was she that had met him.

He nodded. Okay! I can help with other stuff if you need it too. We are all new to this stuff. But trying.


He happily lifted the ducks and waited patiently for her to lead the way.

She chuffed; pleased that he was so willing to help out, but too proud to ask him for any favours as soon as the offer was made. It would seem desperate, she thought- but she was glad to have someone she could potentially call upon, if Bearclaw had need of someone who was apparently quite an able hunter. 

She would have reached to carry some of the ducks herself, but the eager man already had them by the neck. She chuckled, to see him with a mouth so full- but obviously, if he'd brought them this far, it wouldn't hurt him to carry them into the valley; the walk was pleasant, and downhill. 

Given the fact that he wouldn't possibly be able to respond, she didn't initiate conversation until they had descended past the valley's entrance, and into the edge of a forest from which they could see a meadow, and further yet, the river. "We'll thtash thethe here," She said, and began to dig. 

Once the ducks had been stowed away- each in its own lair so as to discourage any fiendish weasels or foxes from getting them all at once- she led him through the meadow. 

"My mate an' I met a couple of your packmateth a couple month ago," She said. "Couple a tough guyth an' another one that looked to be about your age- I'm athumin' he'th one of your leaderth?"

Sven was eager to please and eager to help. And perhaps that would be a shortcoming of his as he aged. Being that he was not taught proper wariness.

He helped dig the holes. Putting one in each. And nodded at a job well done for both. A wag of his tail as he smiled at the leader of bearclaw.

Sven nodded. Yes my two brothers Ujurak and Kristjan and I lead. We wanted our sister Astrid to lead too but she got real upset and left us.

A small sad gaze. Ears to his skull. We are small and young, but we're trying.

A trio of littermates- Ameline wondered if her girls might one day do the same, should they managed to find a way to lead together. Not an easy task for for siblings, as Sven confessed; his sister had not taken well to the suggestion, it seemed, and she chuffed in sympathy. "Well," She said, with a quiet sigh. "You jutht do the betht you can," She said, with a slight shrug of her shoulder. "We're kind of the thame, here. Thmall...But thtickin' together the betht we can." Like Sven, her tone carried the weighty knowledge of the effort it took to keep even a small pack up and running. 

She couldn't help but feel a bit guilty about going to Kvarsheim, and trying to convince them to disband and join Bearclaw. Sven and his brothers were just trying to make a living, the same way she was. 

"Did you three found the pack together, or did you take ovuh for thomeone?" She asked, curious about Kvarsheim's history.

He nodded his head sadly. Yes. That is all we can do. Though.

He blinked. If we can't get more wolves we may not hold our legacy anymore.

He shook hia head. Our Fadir Gunnar was leader. He passed to Valhalla last fall or winter. He lived a long life. It is hard to fill such big paw steps.

He was sympathetic; a likeable quality in a wolf, though she still struggled to believe that a leader should be so accommodating. It made her want to cringe, knowing that Kvarsheim was in a similar situation- and that the boy feared the pack's legacy might disappear. 

"Winter'th comin'," And now here she was, being the sympathetic, encouraging one. "Lone wolveth'll thtart lookin' fer a plathe for the wintuh. Maybe a few new oneth'll wander in," She hoped, for the both of them. It felt wrong, to hope for another pack's success; especially when her own flagged. What she didn't realize, was that it was an improvement, as uncomfortable as it was. 

"I'm thorry to hear that," She said. Harder to muster sympathy, when it came to dead patriarchs- it wasn't a pain that she had felt. "He'd be proud of you, though, don't you think?" She asked. "Yuh thtill tryin'." She said, gazing through ripples in the water in hopes of spotting a fish.

Sven actually didn't know how to be unsympathetic. His father had been sympathetic so was his mother. He had not quite fully figured out that his fadir had to be firm at times too. He only remembered a kind gentle man. 

Maybe. If we have one that doesn't fit with us. We'll send them your way if you'd like?

Sven made a soft humm noise. I think he would yes. He would be proud of all ofus. He'd probably be proud of you too. That was the type he was.

She looked up when he offered to send her whatever misfits didn’t settle in well with his pack. It seemed an odd suggestion- she had seen wolves be driven from a pack, but she’d never considered sending them purposefully to another pack. A thought struck her, however, and shook a soft cackle from her. Sure. You thend uth yuh reject-th, an’ we’ll whip ‘em back into shape for yuh, She jested. 

She directed her attention back to the waters when he spoke of his father. She couldn’t help but feel bad for him- as the man was clearly one who had been not only cherished by those he knew, but charitable with his kindness as well. It didn’t seem terribly plausible that a stranger would be proud of her, but she offered him a small, but grateful smile nonetheless. 

A moment of silence, and she caught sight of a flash of silver. She splashed forward in the water, bounding a few paces just as a trout came into view. The fish darted out of sight before she could nab it. She sighed softly, and returned to the shallows.

He laughed and then shook his head. Sorry that came out wrong. But yes please. But also i simply meant some wolves would rather have leaders who know more than we do, like you and your family. We are young and our age is going to be challenging to keep wolves. And i would rather they went somewhere where they can help than just leave us to our inexperience.

Sven watched and despite that he was talking. His gun metal gaze was on the waters. Following the darting shadows. He leapt forward to catch one and was surprised and pleased to find his mouth closed over a wriggling body. His eyes grew wide in his head at the sensation agains this tongue. But he fought with the scaley beast and quickly dispatched it.

They sure are wriggly.

rolled a success

A pack of hand-me-down wolves wasn’t too bad of an idea, she thought- even though it hadn’t truly been what Sven had meant. The thought of Bearclaw Valley becoming a haven for outsiders, rejects, or wolves such as herself who had been purged unwillingly from their homeland appealed to her. They were still working to discover who Bearclaw Valley would be…And she thought she caught a glimmer of what it could be when she considered being a safe haven for those who had been expelled elsewhere.

Loyalty would be easily won, by those whose loyalty had not saved them from expulsion.

What Sven thought instead was to send her those who might not tolerate a pack of fledglings. He was a yearling, sure; but he had a close bond with his siblings. They would find a way to lead so long as they could not only stick together, but cooperate. The yearlings of Redtail Rise had once been tight- until they’d been driven apart. 

She considered his suggestion quietly, smiling as he managed to chase down and bad a hefty trout. 

Yeah, thometimeth they are, she chuckled. Yeah I’ll take you up on yuh offuh, if it happenth that way. She said. But I feel like yuh gonna be fine. 

If he was as good at leading as he was at fishing, she felt certain the young man would grow into a fine leader- and a good ally for her to keep good terms with.