Neverwinter Forest speja heiminn

@Pangur

the world was painted white, the morning sky heavy with falling snow that muffled the sounds of the waking forest. sólhárr stood before pangur’s den, his lone golden eye fixed on the small entrance. frost clung to his auburn fur, the cold sharp but invigorating against his skin. his breath puffed in the chill air, curling briefly before vanishing into the quiet.

the wedding loomed closer, a ceremony steeped in forneskja tradition, binding him to callyope under the gaze of the gods and the land. a bride deserved a gift, a trade, something of value to honor her and the union they would forge. and pangur, with her boundless energy and sharp mind, was the wolf he trusted for such a task.

sólhárr threw back his head, a deep, commanding call rolling through the snow-laden trees, summoning her. he lowered his muzzle, shaking off the frost gathering on his thick fur, and waited. the snow whispered around him, the forest still caught in the grip of dawn. his golden eye flicked upward, watching the falling flakes with quiet resolve.

pangur, wake. the time has come.

Even in a winter such as this one, birdsong did not fade from the forest; instead it played for her a morning symphony, one easily tuned out the more it played. What was not tuned out, however, was the sudden intense voice of Harkonungr, right outside her den. Pangur stirred and looked to the entrance where he stood, carrying with him the gentle snowflakes fallen from the sky. 

Wake, he said, and she did indeed, quickly, though not without a brief yawn and a shake of her tousled bed-head fur, not that it helped, really. time? She asked, head tilting to the side.

Ah! Wedding? Already?! Her heart skipped multiple beats in her chest, not yet had she finished with her preparations, the gods would smite her for her false promises. Pangur stared blankly ahead a moment, before descending into an early morning panic, her brain still weary from sleep. Now?! We must go quickly! Get up get up! She practically leapt from her den, springing into action and trying to usher the Harkonungr to quick feet.

she erupted with a vigor sólhárr did not know she possessed. stunned for what felt like an eternity, he aimed to turn and grab her by the scruff to slow her movements down.

no. not wedding yet. he assured her, having her calm. while he appreciated the gesture of her lurching outwards in such a frenzy, there was no need for it on the songbird morning.

he broke a soft laugh.

you deserve rank. a true member of forneskja.

he hoped that this gift would be enough to satisfy her jumping bones. how does that sound?

The wave of calm that washed over her in that moment was a euphoria Pangur would likely chase the rest of her life. 

Oh sweet relief! Now she wished to yell at him for giving her such a scare, but she would not, only because he spoke of rank, of true ties to this place; a binding of loyalty, witnessed beneath the gods eyes in an act of service. Her whirlwind of emotions settled now on excitement. 

She would take a deep breath to resituate herself, exhaling a small 'ha'. Oh- yes... It sounds like we must go to it, then.

pleased with this, the chieftain settled her down. he, too, found himself sitting back on his haunches. he'd prefer to dub ranks in private, a fealty of others not worth the time to see the others excel. it will happen on their own time. no need to rush such things!

you are quick. like deer. he stated, beginning his explanations. this is good. you are alert, wild. forneskja needs this.

he thought the role suited her rather well.

you will be náttfari forneskja's message bringer. scout.

he swallowed, pride ebbing in his words. is 'dis good for pangur?

Náttfari.

Message bringer, scout. Though she chose to stay, she would not forfeit her travel; that joy of seeing new places and peoples; the honour of carrying words of great importance between leaders. Dis is good for Pangur. She echoed with a wide grin and a nod, pleased.

But I must still collect the flowers you have asked for. I cannot take such a name until then. Pangur held a firmness to her tone, dead-set she was, for the task ahead.

aye, sólhárr replied with a faint grin, his golden eye catching the glint of her determination. then it be settled. after the solstice of the new year, the gods will watch our union.

he paused, his massive frame steady as he studied pangur, noting the unwavering resolve in her tone. your task is no small thing, but i trust you’ll see it through. the name will be yours when the time comes. until then, focus on what must be done.

his gaze softened, a rare flicker of warmth in his otherwise stern demeanor. forneskja thrives because of wolves like you, pangur. make it worthy of their blessings.

And here she thought she had somehow slept in all the way to the big day, to hear the timeframe spoken aloud offered further relief to the beating frenzy of her heart. 

I will meet with Y'var'la, we will make plans. Be assured Harkonungr, it will be worthy She nodded with glee, looking around at the glen, her own mind struggling not to draw something entirely of her own conception; the wedding would be the most beautiful when every mind worked to put forth their own touch. Unity, not only between lovers, but between each soul harboured within these walls. Forneskja, strong, but still walking on newborn legs needed only this celebration to be pulled together. 

Perhaps when she was finished seeking for flowers, and ivy, and spidersilk, she would offer to decorate the dens of the newer members. Do you seek me out only to confirm, or do you come with another reason? She asked lightly, her tail swaying slowly behind her.

sólhárr watched pangur with a faint glimmer of amusement in his single golden eye, her enthusiasm for the task evident in every word she spoke. he nodded, a slow, deliberate motion, as if her assurances alone were enough to satisfy him.

if your leg feels better, we could hunt something big, he offered, his tone measured but not without a trace of eagerness. he knew the importance of unity and how shared victories brought wolves together. a feast from a grand hunt would do more than fill their bellies; it would solidify the bonds forming within forneskja.

his gaze lingered on her for a moment, appraising but not unkind, before shifting to the glen around them. the wedding would be magnificent, he had no doubt, but for now, his focus returned to the here and now, to the simple things that would make forneskja whole.

Pangur nodded, an impish curl of her maw as he made his suggestion. She stands to spring in place on her paws, showing the returned strength of her leg. Any feeling of pain that remained was but a small tingle, a manageable ill that held no grounds to stop her. Something big. She let enthusiasm rumble in her throat How can I say no to such a thing?

The prospect of food enthused, a grand breakfast and a feast for the bold pieces of her soul; which yearned every day to prove itself under the eyes of the aesir, to show them she was worthy of their love and the trickster's blood that ran through her veins.

sólhárr’s maw curved upward, a rare smile breaking the stoic lines of his face. pangur’s eagerness was contagious, and her energy rippled through the frostbitten air between them. his single golden eye gleamed with shared enthusiasm, a flicker of something akin to pride igniting in his chest.

then we find something worthy, he rumbled, his voice carrying the weight of his approval.

his gaze scanned the horizon, the snow-covered expanse stretching before them. there were always signs for those who knew where to look—the faint trails etched in the snow, the scattered branches snapped by heavy bodies. he turned his muzzle to catch the wind, the air carrying hints of life hidden beneath the serene facade of winter.

there—a scent. faint but distinct. a musk unlike elk or deer, something heavier, something bold. a herd of muskoxen.

muskox, he declared, his tone low but charged. the herd moves closer to the cliffs. one separated... if we are cunning, we take it.

his weight shifted as he moved down the hill, his massive frame a shadow against the pale light of day. he glanced back at pangur, his grin lingering.

this will not be easy. but the gods smile on the bold, yes?