Firefly Glen moonlight danced with the silhouettes
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#1
All Welcome 
He had guarded. He had provided. Now he roamed away from Forneskja's claim, past the pack he thought must be Moonglow. When that scent was cleared from his nose, he could taste the foreign cologne that Kinusi had worn so proudly on her pelt.

Catamaran wondered if she'd yet made it home.

Listlessness soon overtook him there in the glen. His paws wanted to eat up the ground, but he could not decide which direction to point them in. It would be unwise, he knew, to seek out the mountain pack. He was no diplomat, despite the license he'd taken to advise Luhtar on the subject. That left Moonglow firmly off the roster as well, even though he'd thought to visit the strange protrusion of the land before meeting Solharr. After all — he no longer needed to look for work.

There was work at home. In the privacy of his solitude, he still felt the need to cluck his tongue at the notion.

With a strange sense of loss, the bounty hunter turned and slunk back toward Solharr's claim.
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Despite that she had been slightly taken back. Not shaken just taken back. She had sought out her father's advice and after he had laughed a little. He had explained she had come on a little strong, but assured her she was loveable anyway.

Today she was headed towards the glen. She wanted to see if anything had been left behind. Trinkets or snacks. She loved food. Honestly. Instead she found she was not alone.

And here I thought you'd stay near the deep dark forest and scare little girls. Heya Mist.
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The breeze brought him her scent. He lingered, and a moment later, she appeared to him, trilling a cheerful greeting. Comparing this to their last interaction, it was easy to place the sole blame for her reticence on Luhtar.

One ear swiveled warily, listening for signs that they were not alone. Soon enough, however, both stood together at attention, cupped toward her. It was a protracted moment of quiet, but perhaps she had come to expect as much from him. Perhaps she would also be unsurprised when his response was lacking.

"There are no little girls in Forneskja's woods," he replied, remembering to soften his voice. Just when it seemed like that was all he had to say, he went on: "I travel often."

An understatement, really.
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Kinusi's reaction had not been jsut the Luhtar wolf. She had just realized perhaps she was not as safe as she had envisioned. And she had begun to second guess her brashness. Though she had quickly over looked that thought process. Because she was perfection incarnate. And noone could change her mind. Well not exactly perfection in the same sense. But perfectly Kinusi.

He was still not a talker. Clearly she would need to carry all the conversations, but taht was alright. She did like to talk. and Sign and tell stories. 

And you gave me a hard time for going to borders. You travel too it seems. She tilted her ears forward. Humor lacing the blue of her eyes. A ever present smirk dancing along her maw. 

I actually came to look for goodies. There was a huge hunt here recently. I don't remember you guys being there. There was a whole bunch of packs from all over. The moon wolves made it and there were tradings and huntings and women circles and other stuff. I came to see if any snacks or trinkets got left behind.
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His brows folded down a little more tightly over his eyes as his words were turned back on him, but he did not interrupt her before she shared her purpose for being here with him. If anything, however, it only exacerbated the furrow of his brow.

"Goodies," he repeated, testing the word on his tongue. He understood its meaning easily, but it was not a word he thought he'd heard before. He lifted his head a little higher, already testing the wind for interesting scents. As if a simple statement was a call to action.

A scent caught his attention. He wandered in that direction, snuffling through the grass as he went.

"You were a respectful distance from the borders," he said after a moment of fruitless searching. "But you were rude. That was unwise. I — " He lifted his head, turning it to settle his mean eyes on her slight figure. "I am not rude on strangers' borders, if I go there at all. But if I was, if I did — I am experienced enough to escape with my life."

He was experienced enough to make a good attempt, at least.

"Do you know how to fight?" he asked her, turning his coral gaze back to the tall grasses.
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Based upon hia facial expression they did not share the same opinion. And that was alright. Dad said it takes all types of folks. She briefly wondered what her mom would say.

She nodded. Mmhmm. You know snacks, small trinkets, maybe some furs. Wolves brought a lot of stuff. There was even one group that had slaves. ahe wrinkled her nose at that.

I wasn't trying to be rude. I was simply trying to be less tense. Because this. She waved a paw sround him. Is way super serious. And the world should have fun too.

She chuckled Of course not I'm a bard and a story teller. I can also heal a little bit, but I am way not as good as my dad but I'm learning.
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She was a strange creature. Being near to her was like being presented with a pile of the trinkets she searched for. Catamaran did not know which to pick up and examine first. He turned them over in his mind in order, thinking first about the gathering she described. It sounded like a dangerous place for so young a wolf, but he supposed she'd had her father with her. Distantly, Catamaran thought that he might have liked to see that.

He passed more quickly over her assessment of this, deciding that she must be calling him boring. He made this connection only because it was not the first time such a thing had been said. His tail swished in satisfaction at a mystery solved.

It was the last part on which he lingered. But first:

"I felt that you were mocking me," told her. Not in accusation or with any negative feeling. He just thought it important that she know how her words were interpreted. "You mocked Luhtar," he added, again without rancor. "It doesn't matter whether he deserved it. You don't know that man. He could have been angry. He could have hurt you."

And now, his main takeaway: "You should learn." He had come to the source of the interesting scent. It was only a scrap of ermine fur — small, but immeasurably soft. "To fight," he added, in case he hadn't been clear.

He picked up the scrap of fur and came to drop it at her paws.
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Kinusi didn't really knowhow others perceived her. And truthfully she had not had a lot of social interaction in her young age. Her father tried, but there was limited wolves on the spear and Sialuk amd her brood largely stuck to themselves. And moonshadows kids. She didn't think she'd ever seen but one.

She frowned at his words she had not been mocking him. She had been trying to be a bit silly and funny. And maybe yes it came off as rude.

Her face tightened at the mention of the other wolf and she frowned harder. He was rude first. He just showed up and asked questions. Didn't even offer his name or anything. And then he looked at me like I was a bug or something. I don't like em.

She touched the fur with a smile. This looks like one of the furs we moon wolves cured. You can wear it, like this.

She was still small enough that she could lift it and settle it over the freckles of her fur. Making her strange spots completely disappear beneath the fur.
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"Yes," he agreed; Luhtar had been rude. Luhtar had been bigger than both of them. Had been a physical match, likely, for both of them combined. Catamaran liked to think he possessed the more skill of the two of them, but he could only believe Kinusi would have been dead weight in such a fight.

And then, "Yes," he said again — for he did not like the man, either.

But he liked Kinusi. He liked that, when he presented her with the scrap of fur, he could never have predicted what she might do with it. His coral gaze tracked it to its place atop her shoulders and lingered there, bewilderment clear for a moment before he wiped the expression from his face.

"I see," he hedged, and he supposed he did understand the purpose. It was just that the sort of forethought it took to clean a skin and wear it was foreign to him. He lived by the day, rarely staying long enough for his meals to grow cold, let alone for skins to dry.

"How do you cure it?" he asked, slowly warming to the notion; becoming intrigued by it. His eyes flicked back to her face. Did she know this power?
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Kini had been taught by her father the basics of self-protection. But she had admittedly not paid attention exactly 100%. But her father had tried. Give Credit where credit was due after all. She sighed softly. At least he thought the big ugly beast was rude too. Granted she had been, maybe, a little bit, just a tad also. But that was no never mind now.

She chuckled and shook her head. Blue eyes shining in mischievious delight. HE was a talker this one. Such a talker.

Kinusi didn't understand why the wolves did this. She preferred to lay on the furs herself. But she did know how to do it and she did it well. Her father was a trader after all. A true trader in all aspects. 

It takes a bit. But you tear all the meat you can use off of it. The fat and berries make a nice treat by the way. Then you put it in a populated water source, where the little fish will eat all the scraps. IT stays there for however long it takes to eat all the little pieces. Pull it out, stretch it out, let it dry. Then you can use teeth and claws to work through it and form it. They make nice wraps for shoulders or bodies. Warm places for babies and nice sleeping spots.
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He listened raptly to her instructions, though he was not sure whether or not he would try his hand at this. Had he the time? But, either way, the process intrigued him in the same way of a story. It even had a happy ending.

The bounty hunter's lips curved just a fraction. He could easily imagine her as a much younger child, curled up in such a skin with a few other small, dark bodies to keep her warm. She had been raised like that — warmly and softly. He could see it in the merry flash of her eyes.

"You should come back to the forest," he suggested. I want you to come back. "If you will make furs for Solharr, I will teach you how to fight."

He doubted she would ever beat a wolf his size, but he could at least teach her enough to help her get away clean, couldn't he? She would live long enough to have her own babies to tuck away someplace soft and warm. This thought pleased him, though he could not articulate why it was so important to him.

"I will protect you from Luhtar," he added. And, even if his eyes were still narrowed, there was a sparkle of merriment she might recognize.
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Kinusi did not enjoy the work as well as other's did. But she did know how to do it. And part of her railed that usually it was only the women that did so. But she didn't share this. After all both her father and the leader of moontide cured their own furs. So it wasn't a gender issue. She did not believe. 

How she would have broken his heart had she told him. There had only been two of them and her brother long gone before she could travel on her own. So then it had simply been Kinusi and her father. Perhaps it was why she was always seeking something. She felt lost. 

She blinked surprised. Why should she make furs for a man she was not betrothed too or even knew? Honestly, the thought didn't appeal exactly. And couldn't this Solharr ask the other moonwolves or trade. The she wolf Callyope had often been here. Sister to lady Sialuk. SHe didn't know much, but she knew that at least. So this beast Solharr would have met her at least coming or going. But she could also share the knowledge these wolves gave with her father, and Moonwoman. And she wanted to know the stories of these ones. Their songs. 

IF I come do i get to go and come as I please? I won't leave my dad all alone.

She chuckled. If i bite him hard enough he'll leave me alone.
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The bounty hunter was relieved not to have to think about his answer.

"He won't keep you from leaving," he replied, fairly confident in this fact. He might decide that she could not stay if she did not intend to remain, but Catamaran expected that Kinusi's status as the daughter of a pack leader would give her a little more leeway than others. And even Catamaran, after all, had been allowed to negotiate his position.

He regarded her a little longer, a thread of uncertainty growing.

"Perhaps your father will want to meet him," he said. That would do away with most of Catamaran's worries. "Either way. Solharr's position in the valley is unstable. It would be smart for him to make friendly overtures. Though, I would not recommend saying this to his face." Not in those exact words, anyway.

He hoped that Solharr was a smart man.

"Practice with your father what you should say," he made another suggestion. "If he is a diplomat, he will know." His head tipped to the side. "Will you follow in his footsteps?"
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Kinusi didn't know what she expected his answer to be. But was surprised to find a soft part of her chest gave way when he agreed that she could continue to visit her father. It was not that they were overly close, well they were. But her father gave her way more freedoms than most would allow. She knew that was in part to his own constraint against rules.

My dad can meet him too. But he lets me make my own decisions as long as I talk with him. I am old enough now. And he has always given me more freedom than most children. Probably cause i'm the only one.

She chuckled and blue eyes flashed with mirth. You did listen when i spoke. Moonwoman has much pull in these wilds. And she respects my dad or at the very least likes him. So does Lady Sialuk who is Moonwoman's daughter.

Do you mean will I be a healer, bard and story teller? Probably. At least a bard. I prefer to sing to telling stories and healing. But I realize that I must know these things to be important. That I am guaranteed a better life if I can do them.
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Though he'd imagined her with others, it did not surprise him to learn she was the only one in her litter. She spoke, he thought, like someone who had only spoken with wolves who doted on her in the past. Even Catamaran, poorly socialized as he was, could be a little more tactful. Yet he was endeared to this brashness in Kinusi; he thought that most wolves ought to just indulge her. Why not?

He did not say, Of course I listen, but it was a near thing.

"That's why I decided to become a bounty hunter," he agreed, but his focus was elsewhere. She sang? He wanted to hear it, but a request got stuck in his throat. He swallowed it down and instead asked, "What do you like to sing?"
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Kinusi was a brash wolf, but so was her father. He had a little more control than she did. But it had came with time and painful lessons. And there had been one other, but she could not even remember her brother's face. So why dwell on it as painful as it was. A reminder that he did not want to stay. Or perhaps he couldn't. No one really knew. 

She had decided early on. If you couldn't have fun an dspeak your mind. Then the wolves you spent time with weren't worth it. There was nothing good that came from silence and secrets.

Oh gosh I sing a little bit of everything. Dad has been singing to me since before I Was born. I know much. Happy or sad. Angry and love songs. I know heartbreak songs and laughter songs. Kids songs.
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For a moment, the bounty hunter imagined what his life might have been like if his own father had played a more present and active role in his life. Would he have learned how to sing as his family wanted? Ultimately, he believed he still would have been turned out when he grew too big to inspire maternal instinct. He was sure he wouldn't recognize a world in which his father had been allowed to remain with him for very long.

Kinusi, he realized, reminded him of the man.

"I would like to hear that, some time," he said, unsure whether or not this development made him any less endeared to her. It was difficult to look at her young face and see anything but a small girl. "A happy song," he clarified. Hedged, almost. Would she sing right now?
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Walking on sunshine by Katarin and the waves
 

Kinusi could not imagine a life without her father in it. Her mother yes, because it was a reality. Her brother too. And though her father had tried so very hard. He had not been able to give her all the social intricacies that she would need while he tried to help run a pack and heal other's.

She knew sometimes she had to come second to his plans. ANd that was okay. Because he always made time for her. Even when he was dead tired.

Kinusi sort of jumped up on two feet and back down. Excitement wiggling through her body. She loved singing. Okay hmm. My dad sings this all the time when he's working in the garden.

She hummed a few melodies and then began to dance to the beat as her father had taught her. Exaggerating her movements, four paws on the dirt, head moving side to side. Her voice lifted in a clear soprano, washing over all in the vicinity. She had trained her vocal chords well. But where her father bore a deep baritone, her's was lighter, softer, airy.

Oh!
Ohhhh, yeeeh
I used to think maybe you loved me now baby I'm sure
And I just can't wait till the day when you knock on my door
Now everytime I go for the mailbox, gotta hold myself down
'Cause I just can't wait till you write me you're coming around

I'm walking on sunshine, wooah
I'm walking on sunshine, woooah
I'm walking on sunshine, woooah
And don't it feel good!
Hey, alright now
And dont it feel good!
Hey yeah

I used to think maybe you loved me, now I know that it's true
And I don't want to spend my whole life, just waiting for you
Now I don't want u back for the weekend
Not back for a day, no no no
I said baby I just want you back and I want you to stay
Woah yeah!

I'm walking on sunshine, wooah
I'm walking on sunshine, woooah
I'm walking on sunshine, woooah
And don't it feel good!!
Hey, alright now
And don't it feel good!!

Yeah, oh yeah
And don't it feel good!!
Walking on sunshine
Walking on sunshine

I feel alive, I feel the love, I feel the love that's really real
I feel alive, I feel the love, I feel the love that's really real
I'm on sunshine baby oh, oh yeah
I'm on sunshine baby oh

I'm walking on sunshine, wooah
I'm walking on sunshine, wooah
I'm walking on sunshine, woooah
And don't it feel good

Hey, alright now
And don't it feel good
I'll say it, say it, say it again now
And don't it feel good!!
Ohhhh, yeahhhh
And don't it feel good

Now don't it, don't it, don't it, don't it, don't it, don't it feel good
I'll say it, say it, say it again now
And don't feel good

Now don't it, don't it, don't it, don't it, don't it, don't it feel good
Tell me, tell me, tell me again now
And don't it feel good

Ohhhh, yeahhhh
And don't it feel good
Oh don't it feel good, don't it feel good
Now don't it feel good?
Oh yeah, oh yeah, oh yeah (Don't it feel good)
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Although he'd nearly asked for it, the bounty hunter was still just a little shocked when Kinusi began to sing. There was very little preamble before her voice suddenly filled the air, shocking in how freely and smoothly the melody flowed from her mouth. It brought him back to those summer days when his father would visit. The whole pack seemed to anticipate his arrival. His aunts would gather 'round to coo over him, and he would be paraded out with his siblings to be doted on for a day.

Most of his childhood memories were lonesome. Dreary. Uncertain. He had not experienced the deep sense of belonging and sisterhood that most of the rest of his family had experienced. He and Coachwhip had been left to huddle together on the outskirts — never truly neglected, never viciously abused, but never fully embraced, either.

He had grown up believing himself to be something that was both second-rate and dangerous. But, on those musical days, he'd glimpsed something like what he saw today.

Catamaran was smiling by the time the song was done. Not widely, but noticeably.

"Thank you," he said, wishing his voice would not sound quite so remote. He tried to insert more feeling when he added: "It suits you."
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And there it was. That look that all bards and storytellers wanted. The look when someone heard you and enjoyed it from their head to their paws. They reveled in it.

She laughed then. I know. I love to sing. Sometimes I make up my own. But I haven't done that in awhile.

She tilted an ear forward. Do you like stories and songs?
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Immediately, the bounty hunter coveted these made-up songs. What did Kinusi like to sing about? What went on in the mind of a child that was happy and safe? He would ask one day, he decided —

Yet he had to think for a moment when asked if he liked stories and song. Such things had been offered in payment, in the past, and Catamaran had always insisted on more physical comforts: food or shelter. Healing. A warm body to indulge him for the night. It had little to do with like or dislike. He had only been doing his best to fill his most pressing needs for safety, sustenance and — and something else. Something he could not name.

Only now did he wonder if song could somehow sate him. He felt filled with something right then, at any rate.

"I do," he replied at length. And, only than realizing what she must be asking, "But I don't know many. I prefer to listen."

This must seem terribly boring, to so young a girl. He wished he knew how to entertain her. (He wondered, at the back of his mind, if the children from that coastal pack liked to sing and dance. Were the women there any more tender with their children than they had been with him?)

"My father knows many," he went on, choosing to think about a different coastal pack. "He can be found at this Moontide. The one that you mentioned."

The panther, at least, could be trusted to treat young girls with the care that he ought.
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Kinusi had often sung about silly things. The food she was eating. A flower she had seen. Just little everyday things. Sometimes she merely hummed snatches of melodies with no words.

Kinusi was young, but she had had many talks with her father. She knew what could be offered in trade. A song, a dance, food, pelts. A warm body. Her father did this, offered his body to those in want of it. But it was not distasteful she didn't think. And she had wondered briefly if she was older if she would trade her body too. But she did not think on it long. Not yet. That was the future perhaps or just a story. Yet to be determined.


She titled an ear. That's okay I'll sing whenever you want.

She smiled at the mention of moontide. She knew them. They are good there. Rodyn is fair and kind. They are mostly hunters and traders there by the sea. All the children that I have seen are fun and nice. Too quiet for my tastes.
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Another smile curved his mouth; if her fellow children were too quiet for her, he wondered how she could stand to converse with him. Even he had been more outspoken as a child; reservation had come with age, with hunger, with the evil of the world.

"You are likely to find the forest just as dull," he told her, though he was at loathe to discourage her from the place. It was better she knew beforehand, lest she end up too disappointed. "But you should still learn to fight. All wolves should — but small ones most especially."

He would see her become a mother. He would see her live to have a chance, at the very least.
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Twice she was rewarded. Twice she won, her prize a smile. Small but there. That was enough.

She shook her head. Now. A forest sings their own songs if you listen. Birds Twitter. The river bubbles
 Even the sound of the undergrowth, a hunter. You can make melodies from the mundane. Father says that listening is just as important as speaking. Even if I forget sometimes.


I'm not that small. 
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Now she spoke in poetry, and Catamaran was further charmed. It came as no surprise that the words were passed down from her illustrious father, but somehow, they didn't seem any less hers for that fact.

"You are wise," he said, purposefully disregarding talk of her size. It was true that she was not that small, but her youth made her seem so much more vulnerable than her size would suggest.

He pulled his attention away from her and sniffed at the breeze once more.

"What other goodies are around?" he wondered to himself, hoping to remind her of her aim. He enjoyed talking to Kinusi, but he needed a moment to recharge.
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