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?

Ox? Grand beast! Oh, they would certainly need the gods blessing for this! She would need to take a thousand bites to knock such a creature to the soil. All the more enthusing to the thrill-seeker.

We could move to make it fall. She utters a quick plan, a lightbulb above her head as the idea stirred If they go to cliffs, t'en we can use a ledge, a small space will make it panic but ah- we must watch our feet too.

Cliff fall was deadly for wolf, too; her idea was not without its risk.

a good idea, he rumbled, a low, steady sound that matched the controlled energy radiating from him. his tail flicked, his excitement barely contained, though he maintained his usual air of calm authority.

i will start the spook, he declared, turning his gaze toward the grazing beast in the distance. you must be ready. choose your moment, pangur. strike where it counts.

his words carried the weight of trust, an acknowledgment of her skill. they were a team now, and together, they would bring down the ox, gods willing. with one last glance toward her, he shifted into a steady prowl, muscles coiled with anticipation as he prepared to set the plan into motion.

Pangur sprung to bouncy feet, circled Harkonungr while he prowled like mountain cat. It was crisp morning, one made for the pursuit of glorious victory. She breathed in the frosted air deeply, feeling it brace her muscles and wash through her body.

They would strike off, a strangely productive pair; they followed the distant scent until they reached the straggler, the herd in the distance, grazing on the plants that rooted between cliff-stone. She kept herself low and studied the ox, each shift in its gait, the sounds that rumbled in its thoat, pained or perhaps motivated otherwise. She thought about the best angle to approach from, and looked to Solharr for confirmation. I will go to the fork in the path, where the cliffs begin, and stop it from joining with the herd. We can chase it down the other path, to that overlook. She gestured crudely with her muzzle to a sharp corner along the cliffside.

her plan was sharp, clever. he nodded once, approving.

go, he said simply, voice a low rumble that carried no question. she had her task, and he his.

as pangur darted away, sólhárr turned his attention back to the herd, his massive frame moving with fluid precision. he looped around, silent and deliberate, positioning himself to cut off the rear of the bison. his focus narrowed to the straggler, the one who lagged just enough to make it a prime target.

he waited, crouched low against the winter’s chill, muscles coiled with anticipation. he could hear the pounding rhythm of hooves, feel the tension of the hunt building in his chest. the moment pangur was in place, he would strike.

Age old, like it was built into her body, twined into her soul even before she was taught the moves. Hunter's stride came naturally, natural as breathing.

Her legs moved, just as Oxen legs moved; they too knew this dance, the other side of it of course, but what was a tango with only one? She took care not to startle them so much.

Pangur struck off with speed, crafted by the divine and made for the chase; muscles rippled beneath tawny fur with each bounding stride that drew her closer to the desired position. She gave ample room and clambered up to the fork in the path, finding her place amongst the hillside shrubs.

he mirrored pangur’s precision with his own deliberate steps, looping around the herd to position himself at the rear. the oxen’s tails flicked nervously, their low grunts rising as they began to bunch together, seeking safety in numbers.

he crouched low, muscles coiled like a drawn bow, waiting for pangur’s signal. the hunt was a symphony, and sólhárr knew his role well.

as the largest of the beasts shifted its weight, sólhárr darted forward with explosive speed, his fangs flashing as he snapped at its heels. the oxen bellowed in alarm, the herd lurching forward in chaotic bursts. his growl rumbled through the crisp air as he drove them toward pangur’s chosen path, their escape narrowing to the fork where she lay in wait.

The ox began their mighty stampede, a thunderous cacophany in the air as a dozen hooves shook the earth beneath their weight! They crushed any peeking bramble underfoot and carved a path into the snow with their massive bodies. Truly, their flight was rather unbecoming of their statures, but she did not know to speak oxen language, so they would cease to understand if she called them cowards on the way by. This did not stop the muttering under her breath, spoken in her mother tongue, a dirty taunt while the healthy of the herd ran past. She counted each one.

Before the last, however, Pangur made herself known, stepping into the path with a boldness matched only by warriors of the shield. Fire! in the eyes of the huntress, in the blood that ran through her limbs; it is no surprise that the startling forced the ox to make a turn in its path, its legs now bringing it up the cliffs the other side; where they grew ever steeper, and each passage waned in width until nothing but a mountain goat could've scaled it.

Below, sharp spires, battering rocks; bones would crack easily.

sólhárr surged forward, his powerful stride eating up the ground as the ox turned toward the cliffs. its bellow echoed, a mix of panic and defiance, but he was relentless, his golden eye locked on the beast.

the spires below were unforgiving, a natural trap laid by the land itself. he barked sharply to pangur, a signal to drive the beast closer to the edge.

his muscles coiled as he veered to the side, cutting off the ox’s retreat. teeth bared, he lunged for the beast’s flank, snapping at its hind leg to force it into a tighter turn. the ox stumbled, hooves scrabbling against loose rocks, but it regained its footing with a desperate heave.

keep it moving, he growled toward pangur, his voice carrying through the frosty air. the hunt was closing in, the cliff’s edge drawing nearer with each pounding step of the ox’s massive hooves.

this was the moment—the culmination of their strategy and strength. he moved like a shadow alongside the beast, his presence a constant pressure that would not let it rest or recover. its fate hung on the edge of the jagged cliffs, where sólhárr’s determination and pangur’s fire would bring it down.

Pangur did not let the ox take even a moment worth of breath, if it stood its ground; it would be bad for everybody, last thing she wanted was to fall victim to her own scheme, she could not be bested so!

Solharr's large, uncompromising figure kept fear in the heart of the oxen, his teeth prompted its movements, and Pangur did not let him do so alone. His command was acknowledged in her follow through, the snapping of her jaws against hide and heel kept the ox exactly in the path they had drawn for it. They would stress it until it no longer watched where it placed its hooves..

Take a corner just a little too sharp...

Down, the great beast would go.

a fiery blur against the frosted cliffs as the ox stumbled, its great hooves scrambling for purchase on the jagged edge. with a calculated leap, he surged forward, his teeth sinking into the beast's vulnerable throat. the ox let out a final, guttural cry, its weight teetering precariously before crumpling to the ground.

the chieftain didn't hesitate. his massive jaws clamped down, tearing through flesh and sealing the creature's fate. blood sprayed across the white snow, the air filled with the metallic tang of victory.

he pulled back, his chest heaving as he turned to pangur, his single golden eye glinting with satisfaction. done, he rumbled, his voice thick with the exertion of the hunt. let’s bring it back. forneskja will feast tonight.

the triumph in his tone was unmistakable as he motioned toward the kill, pride swelling in his chest at their success.

Her contributions were like fly bites in the eye of this one, dooming blow, precision saved for just the right opening; and out did it spray! All. Over.

A-pff- Pangur took four steps back when the ox came to ground, caught in the crossfire while she held to a leg; at least she closed her eyes before his teeth found their mark.

She sat back when the battle was won, hazel eyes narrowed at Hárkonungr while he pridefully stood over the ox's side, their triumph at the peak of a cliff where the gods could witness it closely. A cloudless sky, their approval shone down onto the body of the great creature, bathing it in rays of gold.

...You got me. She said flatly, a statement, rather than an accusation. A peachy forepaw lifted to slowly wipe at the painted streaks across her face. And now for the long haul... aha..

Pangur shot right up to her feet! Best not to let her body think it was time to relax! She skipped over and looks over the kill with a smug sort of pride, get out-thinked, oxen. She moved to bear her load of the weight, excited for the feast they would all make of it, how delighted everyone would be! it delighted her in turn.

Eugh, she was a mess. Solharr could not have been much better off, given that it was his jaws that did the biting.

Still, it was enough for her to want a bath.

his breath came heavy, curling in the crisp air as he looked down at pangur, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his bloodied muzzle.

when pangur straightened and moved toward the carcass, he watched her with quiet amusement, his single amber eye glinting. she was a mess, and so was he, but the pride in her step mirrored his own. this victory was theirs to share.

heh, he said after a moment, shifting to take the brunt of the ox’s weight. with a low grunt, he nodded toward her. they’ll be waiting.

together, they began the long trek back, their footsteps marking the snow, the ox trailing behind them as a testament to their hunt. sólhárr said little, but the shared effort, the weight of the kill, and the faint glint of approval in his eye spoke volumes. their bond, like the hunt, was forged in quiet understanding and unyielding determination.

the gods had smiled upon them this day.